My Brother's Keeper
by Soundwave3591
Summary: Pyrrha Nikos always felt isolated before coming to Beacon. Even now, she struggles to open herself up to others. only one person knew all her secrets and dreams...and he's been dead for years. or is He? in a time of change, where Grimm attacks are increasing and tensions are rising among men, will Pyrrha and her friends rise to the challenge? will their hearts survive?
1. Prologue

_(Northern provinces of Vale, near the coastline facing Atlas)_

The Badlands.

A virtually uninhabited area of the otherwise prosperous Kingdom of Vale.

While the areas outside the main kingdom cities were virtually uninhabited from the start, this massive plain, miles upon miles of land untouched by the civilizations of humanity, was an enigma almost giving itself over to myth. There was virtually no trace that sentient life had ever existed here.

Well, save for the occasional rusting helmet or discarded rifle cast among the ancient hillocks and waving grasses. The only tombstones the wearers would ever receive.

In the last Great War, one of the largest battles between Vale and Mantle, long since given way to Atlas, had been waged over these lands, said to at one time have been fertile and green, and possessing of vital materials and Dust mines. The views had inspired great art pieces and emotional poetry, the vast distances one could see from the rolling hills growing into mountains at the very edge of the landmass tweaking at the heartstrings of many a melancholy artist. In the evening sunlight, one could still marvel at the panoramic rainbow of colors that lit up the sky as the sun descended on the horizon.

Now, the Grasses were brown and dead. Some of the mountains had been reduced to craters, their valuable minerals ripped from the embrace of nature. The bleached bones of monsters and men could still be found poking from the ground after heavy rains.

Also to be found, here and there, were the crumbling remains of the vast engines of war that man had once used to dominate and decimate his fellow: Land dreadnoughts, airships, flying fortresses, and machines comparable to the creatures of Grimm in size and destructive force. These were scattered, rusting, calcified like the bones of their operators. With the Vytal treaty in effect, these machines had been left where they lay, an everlasting tribute to the fallen.

Would be that their secrets would remain fallen.

"This is the spot."

The tall, gaunt man in the white trench coat, the wind catching his gold-streaked scarlet hair, his jade eyes fierce and piercing, looked up from the ancient maps and images he held. Motioning to the group of men and women surrounding him, he looked to the large rock face that towered above the motley group.

"Alright….start digging."

The rumble of earth movers echoed across the empty plains, as men and machines surged into motion, tearing away at the rock and dirt, searching for buried secrets. The Gaunt man smiled fiercely, his eyes flashing, as, placing his hands in his pockets, he fingered a roughly-made clay figurine of a redheaded young girl in a simple white dress.

"Soon, little sister…soon…"

[=]

"Beat it, failure!"

Rackley Hawker dodged the empty bottles and dirty rocks thrown by the shop owner as she fled deeper into the alleyway, struggling to hold on to the barely-edible scraps she had picked out of his dumpster.

 _Failure…_ _  
_  
Her boots, worn and scuffed beyond any repair, thudded on the concrete as she ran, the shadows closing around her. Her chestnut hair, roughly cut short, ragged and dirty from a lack of washing, caught the breeze, blowing it clear of her face. Her skirt was torn, showing off her legs clad in the shredded and laddered remains of the pearlescent stockings Female academy students wore.

 _Failure…_ _  
_  
Her Atlas academy uniform, blouse stained, vest ragged and falling apart, would get her reamed up one side and down the other were she to present it for inspection.  
That is, if she were still a student at the academy.

Slamming her back against a wall, she desperately tried to catch her breath as she listened for any pursuit. It wouldn't be the first time this week she'd had to run from callous abusers: the cuts and scrapes showing through holes in her ragged uniform were testament to it.

Nothing.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Rackley slid down the wall to rest on her backside, simply stopping for a moment. Pulling her knees to her chest, she finally forced herself to look down at her hands, fighting down a wave of revulsion at the sight of the half-eaten sandwich and the pear, missing a bite, that she'd had time to grab before she'd been noticed. Her first real food of any substance in days…at least water was free at the drinking fountains in the park… which was also where she slept, for the moment, under a bridge crossing a decorative stream…

Just two weeks prior, she'd had regular meals, clean clothes, a real bed, friends, respect…

She squeezed her eyes shut and fought back the tears that came more and more frequently these days.

If only she'd tried harder, practiced more…maybe she'd have finally mastered it…..

If only…

If only…

 _Failure..._ _  
_  
Tearing off the bits of the sandwich that had touched someone else's lips, she allowed a few tears to fall as she forced herself to focus on not devouring the sustenance, remembering her survival training…what little she'd had time to receive before being unceremoniously booted out of the Atlas academy. The excuse? "Disciplinary and decorum breaches" yeah, right.

She knew that the fight she'd gotten into with Team ROBN over her inability to properly use her semblance had just been an excuse: her failure to stand and deliver on her promised ability was the real reason.

Sniffing back heavier sobs, she raised a hand and tried to force it again…there, just barely detectable, the traces of electrical bolts arcing between her fingers. And to do that had taken weeks upon weeks of effort and intense training: pathetic, after her discovery of her powers had been a tremendous display, a lightning bolt that had shorted out half the electricity in the school. They'd plucked her into the specialist training as soon as they discovered what she did.

Things wouldn't have been as bad as they were, if a: she were still too young to join the regular army, and the standard military academy didn't want "Specialist dropouts…"

Or B:…her parents hadn't thrown her out….

She'd gotten the letter as she'd been packing her things: her father, a Commander in the armed forces and her Mother, a Specialist herself, had made it clear in no uncertain terms that she was not welcome in their home until she "redeemed" her failure. She'd taken being drummed out of the academy with a strong face, but this….this had left her speechless.  
She'd walked out in a fog, no goodbye from her team, who were already getting to know her replacement. She'd received nothing but cold shoulders and scornful looks from everyone except the janitor of her dorm, who'd given her a sympathetic smile and, she'd discovered, a spare 20- lien slipped in her pocket. She needed that money more than she'd realized at the time…

She'd sold what few personal effects she'd had that very day, to a pawn shop, to scrape together some cash, which she had promptly lost when she'd been mugged in the park that very night. Her spare set of clothes had been stolen the next night, and she'd lost her weapon to a mob of academy students who had taken turns beating her with chase-ball sticks while they threw what little she'd had left into the river. She'd defended herself, of course, but being small in stature and outnumbered had left her on the receiving end more than the giving end. It had been the same everywhere she went: it was an open secret that academy washouts were fair game for people to work out any social grievances on, as they were little more than garbage in the eyes of the masses. Police and soldiers would stand by and watch, sometimes even join in, as always-outnumbered victims, usually teenagers like herself, were subjected to grievous tortures, punishments for their "failure."

In Atlas, there was no room for Failure.

That lien from the Janitor, which she'd hidden in her boot, was now all she had left, and she was determined not to spend it until she absolutely needed to. Shivering as a cold wind blew down the alley through the holes in her clothes, she idly wondered if she'd need a coat or medicine first…

"Hey there."

Looking up in surprise-she'd been so lost in thought she hadn't heard the approach of another-she began to run before she saw who had spoken to her.

"Wait, wait!"

Her mind registered the familiarity of the voice before her body's instinctive reaction to run at the approach of another could fully take over. As her mind's eye registered what her facial eyes were showing her, she all but sobbed a ragged sigh of relief as she recognized the Janitor who had been so kind to her standing there, an expression of concern on his face as he looked at her.

"M-Mr. Rosewood!" she gasped, collapsing onto her knees as her adrenaline rush crashed full-speed into the sudden emotional surge brought on by a friendly face. The older man dashed to her side, getting on his own knees as he steadied her. Despite herself, tears flowed unbidden as she wrapped her arms around him, clinging desperately to this man who had been so kind at the school, always encouraging her as her initial wave of euphoria at being accepted into the Academy had been overtaken by growing frustration and finally desperation as her powers failed to live up to her promised potential. He'd always been there to talk when she'd had to run to escape bullying from her peers and her new team had grown more and more distant from her, not wanting to be associated with someone who couldn't perform. She'd passed all her other courses, and been studious, but the higher-ups didn't care: they'd demanded perfection, and she….

 _Failure…._

"There, there, child, it's alright." Mr. Rosewood said as he held the sobbing girl close, patting her back comfortingly.  
"How can it be alright?!" Rackley cried, her voice muffled where it was buried in the older man's coat "you're the first person I've come across in two weeks who hasn't tried to beat me to death!"  
The Janitor said nothing, merely holding the girl closer as she wept, the fears and despair that had been building ever since she'd realized she wasn't going to succeed finally breaking free.

"m-my parents threw me out, I've lost all my money, my c-clothes, my weapon, and I've been reduced to a punching bag for the p-people's frustration! Some soldier I am! What am I going to do?!" Rackley cried, begging for an answer. Mr. Rosewood smiled sympathetically as she finally pulled away from his chest, her face pinched, and a picture of despair.

"What you're going to do child, for now, is come home and spend a few days with my wife and I, eating some real food and regaining your strength."  
Rackley's sobs abruptly stopped, and she looked at the man, who felt like a beloved uncle more than just a janitor, with eyes wide and wet with tears.

"R-really?"

The man's smile never wavered, as he helped Rackley to her feet and, slipping off his jacket, he draped the oversized leather coat over the trembling girl's shoulders. His face suddenly became serious, almost mournful.

"My Daughter was like you, child: a promised Prodigy who failed to deliver when push came to shove. Like you, she was thrown out by the higher ups and immediately became a pariah: she was too ashamed to come home to us a failure, to bring that stigma to our doorstep."  
He looked up at the sky, his eyes peering into the past.

"they found her face-down in the harbor, her back and arms broken by a Chase-ball stick, face pummeled, hair torn out at the roots and…" he stopped short, unable to go on. Rackley placed a hand to her mouth in shock: she didn't need to fill in the blank. A fresh shudder ran through her as the realization that she could have ended up the same way suddenly filled her mind.

Mr. Rosewood faced her again, placing an affectionate hand on her cheek.  
"There's a hot shower, good food, clean clothes and a warm bed waiting for you, if you'd like."  
"Y-yes…yes!" Rackley said, her eyes still leaking tears even as hope, something she'd thought she'd never feel again, began to bubble in her breast 'I'll do anything I need to, cook, clean, I'll-"

Mr. Rosewood waved his hands dismissively.  
"No, no child, none of that." He said "this is on me."  
Rackley thought if her eyes went any wider they'd burst out of her head.  
"w-what?"  
Mr. Rosewood smiled at her, his face bright as a beam of sunlight broke through the clouds and highlighted his smile.

"My Wife and I swore that we would never allow another Child to go so unloved and unwanted, just because she wasn't what society calls "perfect." I've been looking for you for the past two weeks."  
He placed his strong hands on her shoulders, looking deep into her bright blue eyes.  
" You passed all your courses, Rackley: you are not a failure."

 _Not…a Failure…_ _  
_  
Turning and placing an affectionate arm around Rackley's shoulder, he started to slowly lead her out of the dark alleyway.  
"Now come on… I think it's time you started to put your life back together. For now, let's get you cleaned up and get you some rest, safe from the mobs out there."

"After that….I think I know someone who can help you."

Rackley allowed herself to lean into Mr. Rosewood's embrace as he led her to his simple pickup truck parked at the end of the alley. No one noticed her bedraggled condition underneath his oversized coat, and, in spite of everything, she felt a…strange feeling flowing through her body.

It wasn't until after she'd been driven to Mr. Rosewood's apartment and his wife had given her a hot bath, cleaned her wounds, all but force-fed her a thick beef stew, dressed her in an impossibly soft silk nightgown and put her to bed in an equally impossibly soft bed swaddled in blankets so plush she thought a bushel of cats were sleeping on her-helped by the purring of the Rosewood's own cat, Pancakes, who had leapt onto the bed and snuggled up next to her cheek-that she realized that the feeling was…relaxation.

As she began to drift off to sleep the first contented sleep she'd had in months, Pancakes' soft purring a sweet lullaby, she heard Mr. Rosewood on his scroll outside her temporary room. He was talking to someone:

"Yes, she's an academy student…no, I don't think she got in that deep. She talked to me, didn't she? Yes, yes, I know….look, I've got a good feeling about her. She's as smart as a whip, quick thinking, she passed all her scholastic courses and her sharpshooting course…yes, sharpshooting, she was in the top five of her class. Not bad for a first year, no?...alright, I'll wait to hear from the Commander. When will he be back from…okay, okay, sorry! The line's secure, relax…alright, alright, I Know. But I need to know soon…no, she's not the only one…Alright, talk to you soon. Good luck."

As Rackley, drifting off to sleep, heard him hang up and walk away from her door, she briefly pondered on what Mr. Rosewood had meant by her not being the "only one."

And who this "Commander' was….

But such thoughts were pushed from her mind as, with the company of Pancakes and the safe enclave of Mr. Rosewood's home, she finally fell asleep, a smile on her face.

[=]

(Alright, having seen what has become of some of the main chars in this story…just consider this an AU Volume 3 where things take a different track.)


	2. Chapter 1: Arcadian memories

The Sun shone brightly down on the crenellated towers of Beacon Academy, its opalescent spires and buildings almost glowing in a manner that fit the school's name. It was a warm day, nearing the end of the spring semester: soon summer break would begin, the students returning home for a brief respite before the autumn semester began.

And there was an excitement in the air about that semester as students walked from building to building across the vast campus: the Vytal Festival, a bi-annual event where the chosen champions of each of the four academies would compete for the prestige of victory (along with a Lien prize and credits towards their final grade) would begin this fall, and Beacon had been chosen to host it.

Already surveyors and planners had rented an area of open ground near the edge of the school to place food stands and games to entertain the crowds between matches, and representatives from the other academies had come to speak about housing and accommodations. Along with the representatives came students, and a keen-eyed observer could pick out the uniforms of Atlas, Haven and Shade among the crowds of youths training to become the next generation of Huntsmen.

And the events of the autumn were also on the mind of a Scarlet-haired, athletic young woman who, sliding off her uniform jacket, settled down for a moment's rest after her most recent class.

Pyrrha Nikos, student prodigy, contest champion, cereal mascot (even though she herself found the cereal distasteful) leaned back against a tree that stood at the edge of one of the decorative ponds on the campus grounds. She closed her eyes as she relaxed in the shade, setting her bookbag next to her and letting her long stocking-clad legs extend before her.  
The redheaded celebrity smiled as the news came freshly back to the forefront of her mind: just that morning, she had been informed that, unsurprisingly, she and her team had been selected to be one of the teams that represented Beacon in the Festival. The others, among them Team RWBY and Team CVFY, along with her team, JNPR, had fought off a Grimm incursion into the outskirts of Vale that had been organized by the crime lord Roman Torchwick (now safely imprisoned on an Atlas Airship) and had been the talk of the School ever since.

Her smile faded as she felt the familiar discomfort of her fame niggle at the back of her conscience: she hardly deserved as much of the credit as she was receiving (she'd initially tried to talk Jaune out of going to the city in the first place) and the familiar isolation her fame brought her was as strong as ever. She still found it remarkable that she was as close to her own team as she was, never mind team RWBY and the others she had become close friends with. She still heard whispered voices, awed gasps of her name, and the ever-present hissed accusations of arrogance that her fame was supposed to bring. She'd long ago learned to drown these out lest they get her down, but now that she actually had…friends…

A warm breeze blew across her face, bringing the scent of something familiar to her nose. Her smile returned as a scent she held dear registered in her mind: the cinnamon-y scent of fried dough, from food stands that had already been set up. As healthy as she tried to eat, the greasy, sugary confection was one of her few weaknesses when it came to food. Ever since she was a child-

Abruptly, Pyrrha's smile vanished, and her eyes snapped open in shock as she remembered the date.  
"Oh my goodness!" she gasped to herself as she turned and dove a hand into her bookbag "I almost forgot!"

She rummaged desperately, letting a few textbooks and notepads spill out as she searched.  
"I'd never forgive myself if I forgot…" she muttered "come on…where is-Ah!"

Withdrawing her hand, she returned to her position leaning on the tree as she unfolded a small pouch that she carried with her always: be in on her belt in her combat gear or in her bag while at school.

Within, among some basic assets, were a few cherished mementos: her first medal, a small bronze disk that she'd won for a footrace in elementary school, an equally small silver coin her great-uncle Spartacus had given her, a pocket photo of her Parents holding her as a baby, another of her as a toddler with her ancient Great-Uncle, and one…

This last one she pulled out of the pouch, closing it and setting it on her lap as she held up the tiny photo, its corners frayed and worn with age, and peered within the faded, grainy picture.

In the photo, a five-year old version of herself smiled brightly at the photographer as she sat on a beach, wearing a white sundress and oversized sunhat, with a sandcastle taking shape between her legs. The sun glinted off the ocean in the background.

Kneeling beside her, one hand around her shoulder while the other perched a tiny flag at the peak of the castle, his own hair fluttering in the breeze, was a young man, muscular, in his mid-teens, who had an equally bright smile on his face. His brilliant green eyes seemed to glow through the photo.

Pyrrha smiled a small, sad smile as she looked into the young man's eyes, letting her memories travel back to long ago…had it really been seven years? Seven years since she last saw his face, since she received his final message?

"Hey Big Bro…" she said quietly to the picture, as though some force within could carry her message to his ears, so far away… She sniffed back on a sudden surge of sadness before she continued.

"Guess what? My team and I have been selected to participate in the Vytal Festival! Talk about following in your footsteps….first Sanctum, then Beacon, and now this?"  
The picture didn't reply, but Pyrrha carried on regardless.  
" My Friends are all really excited about it. Yes, yes, you heard that right, I finally made friends, real friends!" she laughed for a moment "yeah, I can tell you're stunned. Ms. Socially Awkward actually managed to hold a real conversation with someone."  
The Picture's expression didn't change, but…

"I miss you."

Her long fingers caressed his face in the picture. Despite her usual reserve, Pyrrha felt tears lurking at the very edges of her eyes. She'd never really gotten over his…disappearance. Even though she'd finally managed to make friends, close friends, friends she felt she could laugh with, argue with…express certain feelings for…

"Hey Pyrrha!"

Speak of the devil…

Pyrrha gasped in surprise, hastily sliding the picture back into the pouch and wiping her eyes as she turned and looked up at Jaune Arc, her team leader, as he trotted towards her with a wave, his own uniform coat slung over his shoulder in the warm air. A faint smile came to her face as he came up to her: he in particular had made an impact upon her long fame-induced isolation.  
Someone not knowing who she was upon first meeting her had been…refreshing. She had felt herself drawn to this quirky, dorky blonde almost immediately, and had had no trouble acquiescing to his unexpected leadership.  
Even finding out he had cheated his way into Beacon hadn't diminished her opinion of him, and when he had shut her out, while he was practically held hostage by Cardin Winchester, who Jaune revealed had overheard his confession, it had hurt her deeply…more deeply than she had expected.  
When he then asked her to help him train, followed through on his promise to wear a dress to the dance if she didn't have a date, and fought so well in the Grimm attack, she'd felt a surge of happiness she hadn't felt in years…and a slight fluttering in her heart she'd had trouble quantifying at first. When it had become clear…

Her Crush on her leader was obvious to her other teammates, the bubbly Nora and monotonously serious Ren, and she expected it was obvious to her friends on team RWBY as well.

But, it seemed, Jaune couldn't get the message through his head. Her smile vanished as that last thought commingled with her already present sadness.

"Pyrrha?" Jaune said, noticing her sudden change in expression as he turned to plop down beside her, his seat turned slightly away from her by the angle of the tree roots "what's up?"  
"Hmm?"  
"You… seem a little down." Jaune said as he settled, draping his jacket across his legs. The redhead stiffened for a moment, and looked nervous as the blonde's shoulder brushed against her own.  
Jaune noticed that his presence always seemed to make Pyrrha suddenly tense.  
"Anythinnnng…I can do?" he asked innocently, worried that he had upset her: He still felt he had to make up for how he'd blown her off a few months back when she'd offered to help him train.

Pyrrha looked at him, and Jaune felt his heart suddenly pulse as he looked into her infinite green eyes.  
Then she smiled at him, idly playing with the hem of her skirt she angled her head to look up at the central tower of the school, her long ponytail trailing down her back. Her smile faded as her words came to her.  
"I appreciate the concern, Jaune. It's just..."

She paused for a moment, staring into the distance, the sun highlighting her face.

"It's just that…I lost one of my few real friends today. Seven years ago, today, that is."

A shocked look flew to Jaune's face as he gasped mutely.  
"Lost? As in they…oh Pyrrha, I'm so sorry, I didn't kno-"  
"please, don't, Jaune." She said, placing a hand to his lips to stifle him. Jaune almost missed what she said as the taste of something spicy drifted off her fingers…

Letting her hand drop from Jaune's reddening face and pulling her knees up to her chest, Pyrrha rested her chin on them and gazed down to the pond before her, pondering her reflection in the water that stared back. She sighed before she spoke.

"His name was Jaden, Jaden Nikos. He was my Brother."

"Your Brother?" Jaune parroted, cocking an eyebrow in surprise "I didn't even know you had a brother."  
Pyrrha smiled briefly as she settled herself deeper into her sitting position. Her lips turned downward as she continued.  
"Most people don't: fame usually drowns out the mention of any siblings. And besides…" she looked away, her manner uncertain "...I…I don't talk about him much."  
Jaune scrutinized his teammate with a worried eye as she fidgeted slightly.

"What…happened to him?" Jaune asked hesitantly "i-i-if you don't mind me asking, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, I was just-"  
Despite herself, Pyrrha smiled at the blonde as he tried to stammer out a concise statement. He seemed to have that ability to bring her out of a funk…much like Jaden had had…

"You kind of remind me of him." She said with a smile, which resulted in the blonde cutting his ramble short with a sheepish expression.  
The redhead's grin faded as she turned her gaze back to her reflection in the pond, staring into her own eyes in the rippling water.

"He was a Beacon Student, one of the best. I always enjoyed listening to his stories, everything he'd seen, meeting his teammates whenever they came to stay, the Grimm he'd fought... there was always this big festive feeling in the air whenever he came home."  
Her hands clutched ever-so-tighter against her knees as she paused, seeming to gather herself for when she spoke next.

"And then one day, right before graduation, he just…didn't come home."

Jaune looked at his teammate with a subtle air of concern: as he'd come to know Pyrrha, he'd learned that her proud exterior and fighting skills hid a deceptively fragile heart, one created through years of isolation from close relationships, due in no small part to her fame. This status, combined with her impressive fighting skills, made her "unattainable" or a "step above" in the eyes of many.

As a result, she'd had few friends, and even fewer close relationships before coming to Beacon. Her awkwardness with conversations not having to do with school or training, along with her seeming lack of conversation topics outside said subjects, was clearly an uncomfortable issue with her: he couldn't help but recall how hopelessly lost Pyrrha had looked when Nora and Yang had been fangirling over media stars and music heartthrobs at an "end of semester" bash the bubbly redhead had thrown for the team and their close friends a few days before.

He'd done his best to help her open up (often unintentionally), as had Nora and Ren, but they knew she still kept many secrets from them, uncertain of their trust.  
Well, he was going to do whatever it took to earn it.  
"I'm sorry, Pyrrha." He said, his tone sympathetic.

She shook her head idly, a dismissive "huff" escaping her lips.  
"I honestly can barely remember him…I was only ten when he vanished, and a lot's happened since then."

For some reason, then and there, fates crossed with emotions, and Pyrrha felt the need to take the picture out of its pouch once more, despite Jaune's presence. As she did so, holding the picture up once more, she felt him lean closer, his shoulder pressing into hers.  
The redhead blushed slightly at the feeling of his breath on her neck as he peered past her head, looking down at the photo. His voice, inquisitive, was directly in her ear…her blush deepening as his breath tickled her earlobe…  
"That him?"

"Yes." She said, her eyes fixated on the picture, trying not to sound as flushed as she was. Her words began to spill forth as a desire to talk about Jaden, a subject she held dearer than anyone would ever know, overtook her usual reserved manner.

"He was my best friend, always there to listen whenever I needed to vent, read me stories, play board games, help me with my studies, and encourage me to succeed. I don't want to sound whiney or ungrateful, but…"  
"Fame ain't all it's cracked up to be?" Jaune put forward. Pyrrha nodded sadly, her gaze locked on the picture.  
"I was…a very lonely child. I didn't have that many playmates, and I was always being pushed to further myself, never settle down and let life pass me by, to never waste a single day. Only Jaden and my Great Uncle Spartacus ever seemed willing to just let me…be a kid."  
She chuckled for a moment, even the mirth sounding despairing.  
"My parents would probably disapprove of me just sitting here talking to you when I should be doing homework, practicing, training…"  
"Sounds rough." Jaune said: this was the most Pyrrha had ever talked about herself in his presence, and he wanted to learn as much as he could...even though he could tell that she had more despair than joy to reveal. She continued, never taking her eyes off the photo.

"Jaden never…expected me to perform. If I ever faltered, ever tripped or fell short, he would always be there to pick me up. I mean, don't get me wrong, my parents never treated me badly if I failed, but I could feel their disappointment…with Jaden, there was never any disappointment."  
"I lost a race? He'd buy me ice cream. Skinned my knee? He'd patch me up. Get overwhelmed from the pressure? He'd hold me as I cried, muting my tears by hugging me to his chest so my parents wouldn't hear me. He was just…always there, whenever i needed something, a hug, a spare lien, a joke, anything at all, he was always right there, and…"  
She trailed off, letting her hand holding the photo fall into her lap as she hung her head, her scarlet bangs hiding her eyes. Jaune could swear he heard the faintest hitch in her voice as she spoke one last conclusive statement.

"…I just…I wish I knew what happened to him."

Jaune said nothing. He knew Pyrrha didn't like it when people obsessed over her fame (she'd said at the dance that that was one reason she liked spending time with him: he'd treated her like a normal person) and she had told him at the dance about how isolated she'd always been, but it had never really hit him just how...lonely, she was. And to lose a confidant like that…

Then an idea hit him.

"Maybe Professor Ozpin might know?" the blonde suggested.

Pyrrha's head snapped up, her eyes widening as her hair danced from the sudden movement. She whirled around to face him, a hand flying to the front of his shirt, stopping –just-short of grabbing it.

"What did you say?"  
Jaune, caught off guard by her sudden movement, stammered a reply as he nervously met her wide, suddenly very, VERY intense gaze.

"W-well, if he assigns all these missions s-students go on, he would know what your Brother's last mission was, right?"

Her eyes went wider still, and then, to his relief, a wide, excited smile came to her face.  
"Jaune…you're Brilliant!" she said with delight, throwing her arms around him.

He yelped in surprise as he toppled backwards into the grass, caught off-balance. Both teens cried out in surprise as they tumbled into a heap, rolling over on the small hill formed by the tree's roots.

Stunned silence enveloped the pair as they came to rest, Pyrrha lying on her back in the grass, Jaune positioned above her, inches from her face. A mild breeze drifted across the ground, brushing against the redhead's bangs, coursing through the blonde's messy locks.  
Both of their eyes were as wide as headlights, and Jaune could feel her warm, slightly cinnamon-y breath on his chin. He saw Pyrrha's pale cheeks redden with a blush as he felt heat race to his own. The way the sunlight caught her hair filled his eyes, the scent of her shampoo drifted into his nose, and he found himself beginning to inch closer to her lips…

"Hey guys!"

Both Jaune and Pyrrha jumped, snapped out of the reverie of the moment, and both whipped their heads around to see Ruby Rose and Blake Belladonna strolling towards them, like themselves dressed in their academy uniforms. Ruby's ever present cape and hood fluttered behind her as she walked, and Blake adjusted her omnipresent hair bow as she cocked an eyebrow at the pair.

"Forgive us if we're interrupting" she said, a hint of a smirk in her voice, while Ruby looked them over with a confused expression.

"You guys okay?" the younger girl asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"uuuummmm…" Jaune drawled, before he seemed to realize his position and yelped as he scrambled off Pyrrha, stumbling to a standing position. She fussed over straightening her blouse, before looking up and, still blushing as red as her hair, accepting Jaune's proffered hand and letting him pull her to her feet.

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine." Jaune said, trying (and failing) to sound casual. Pyrrha meanwhile stood with her hands clasped before her, head hunched, embarrassed at the indignity of what had happened.  
Not to say she hadn't enjoyed it…

"What were you guys doing?" Ruby asked, as she reached out and flecked a bit of dirt off of Jaune's shoulder. He overreacted to the action, dramatically dusting himself down and attempting to do the same to Pyrrha, who waved him off as she turned to regard the RWBY team leader.

"Well, um…" the tall redhead stammered, gesturing idly with her hands "we were talking about some, um, things, and…OH!" she gasped, horror coming to her face "My picture!"

She whirled away from the other three and, seeing the photo in the grass next to her bookbag starting to fly away in the wind, pounced on it, holding it close as she sighed with relief.

"That was too close" she breathed as she stood, inspecting the photo to make sure it hadn't been stained or smudged. Jaune, Ruby and Blake came up to her as she turned back to face them.

"Who's that?" Blake asked, noticing the photo's contents. She furrowed her eyes at the picture, before a quiet gasp escaped her lips.  
"Is that…you when you were little?"

Ruby's eyes lit up like spotlights at her teammate's question.  
"Oh, oh, let me see!" she squealed, bouncing on her feet. Pyrrha hesitated, but Ruby's innocent expression brought a small smile to her face and she couldn't resist.

"Yes, that's me. I was…Five, I believe" she said, holding the photo up so the other two could see. Ruby squealed at the sight.

"Awwww, you were so cute!" she cooed, before she noticed the second figure in the photo. Blake did so as well.  
"Who's that?" Ruby asked, peering closer "he's kinda cute…"

Jaune nervously tried to cut in at that point; not wanting the two to push Pyrrha too far on what he could see was a touchy subject.  
"Listen guys, Pyrrha's had a long day, maybe we should-"

"He's my brother."  
Both RWBY members looked at Pyrrha in surprise as she held the picture to her chest, a downcast expression coming to her face.  
"You have a brother?" Ruby asked.  
Blake arched her eyebrows in surprise.  
"I didn't know you had-"

"I don't talk about him much" Pyrrha said, cutting the dark haired girl off as she looked down at the photo.  
"He…died, on a mission, while he was a student here."

Ruby gasped, while sympathy overtook Blake's surprise.  
"Oh, Pyrrha, I'm so sorry." Ruby said. Pyrrha smiled at the younger girl as she suddenly hugged her much taller friend about the waist, while Blake placed a sympathetic hand on the redhead's shoulder: she didn't really know how to react to such sudden intimacy, but it didn't…feel wrong, so she let it be.

"Thanks girls" she said, before turning her head towards the central tower of the school, where Professor Ozpin had his office.  
"Jaune actually gave me the idea that Professor Ozpin might know what happened to him, given that he assigns all student missions."

"Well, if you want to talk to him, I know he's in his office now" Ruby said as she released the taller girl from her embrace. Pyrrha and Jaune both looked at the two RWBY members in surprise.

"he came over and said hello to us after class" Blake said "he was telling us about how proud he was we'd been chosen as part of the Festival contestants."  
"I'm so excited!" Ruby said, waving her hands so fast they blurred as she practically hopped in delight "oh, and congrats to you guys too! We're gonna compete together!"  
"I guess that fight with the Grimm must have impressed some people" Blake added. Despite her usual reserve, Jaune and Pyrrha could detect a hint of…satisfaction in her voice.

"He's still in his office?" Jaune asked them. Both girls looked at each other for a moment.  
"I think so. He said he was going to be here late tonight." Ruby said in reply as Blake nodded in reinforcement.  
Pyrrha turned to regard Jaune with a look of disbelief.  
"Jaune, surely you don't think we can just barge into Professor Ozpin's office and start asking him questions?" she said, her voice full of skepticism. The blonde suddenly looked uncertain, and scratched the back of his head.

"Well…" he said sheepishly "…maybe we could set up an appointment…"  
"Actually" Blake said "as it just so happens, he mentioned something about being open to anyone who had questions to ask. Something to do with the festival."

Jaune brightened up immediately at the Faunus' words.  
"There, you see?" he said, taking Pyrrha's hand "he's free to walk in! Let's go!"

"W-wait!" Pyrrha said, her expression fearful as she looked down at her hand clasped in his own, her blush returning "Jaune, wait!"

"No time to wait!" the blonde said, tugging on her extended arm "Who knows when you'll have a chance to talk to him again? The Semester's almost over and he's gonna be busy with the festival next semester! Come on, team leader orders!"  
"b-but…hold on!"

"We'll see you guys later!" Jaune said to Blake and Ruby as, barely giving enough time to grab their jackets and Pyrrha's books, he dragged her towards the central tower, her attempts at a protest echoing behind her. Ruby and Blake stood there and watched the two as they departed, Pyrrha barely able to stay on her feet as she feebly tried to hold back.

"Five lien says she goes through with it just so she can hold his hand." Ruby said, an eyebrow arched as she watched the pair go.

"You're on" said Blake, before low-fiving the younger girl.


	3. Chapter 2: Professor Ozpin, I presume?

_Northern Vale_

The Gaunt Man looked over the maps and charts, piles of ancient texts and scrollwork, books and tomes, as the sound of the work echoed in the distance outside his command tent. The number of texts and materials was such that some served as impromptu furniture, a few scraps of canvas and metal trays shielding the ancient papers from the effects of paper coffee cups and ration cans that were stacked around the crowded chamber. A single overhead lantern provided some scant illumination in the growing evening as the man poured over the writings, the pictographs, the ancient riddles, comparing them to a map of Remnant that occupied the only bare wall of the tent.

Outside, a small city of tents and prefabricated buildings was slowly growing larger, all carefully hidden beneath camouflage netting and disguised to look like the surrounding grasslands. More and more personnel arrived with each hour: only careful planning had ensured that the facility was able to accommodate them all with some degree of comfort.

Some would have asked, why here? A dust-forsaken plain of dead grass and scrap metal in the middle of nowhere?

Every clue and hint, every result of their digging into the writings of old, pointed to this spot, but…  
"Where IS the blasted stuff?!" he growled to no one in particular, his hands shaking in frustration "everything said it was here! Damnation, I was so certain-"

"Commander!"  
The Gaunt Man turned away from his readings as, pushing the folds of the tent's entrance aside, a striking woman with short ash-gray hair, a sheathed sword on her back, strode in, the high heels on her boots tapping on the floorboards. Her body was mostly hidden beneath a long black duster, and black and gray eye shadow streamed away from her piercing red eyes like the wings of a great black bird, standing out like a mask on her pale skin. Her voice carried the barest hint of urgency as she addressed her superior.

"We think we've got something."  
The Gaunt man snapped to his feet, sliding his long white trench coat over his broad shoulders as he nodded.  
"Show me." he said, clipped, brisk, all business, grabbing a pistol belt with a holstered handgun off his bed stand and wrapping it about his waist as the woman led him outside to an idling utility truck. Climbing in, the woman put the vehicle in gear and sped up the dirt road of the small camp, towards the mountain face a short distance off where the digging had begun days ago and run nonstop ever since.

Racing up a gravel road laid just so it would look like mountain runoff, the truck skirted past a long train of mineral wagons being pushed along a set of temporary tracks by a mining locomotive which was exiting a neat tunnel cut in the rock face. Each of the wagons on the outbound trains were full of rocks and stones, while the inbound trains on side tracks hauled empty bins ready to be refilled.  
Groups of workers were exiting and entering the tunnel in turns, making way for the trains. Some of the workers, human and Faunus alike, were sitting outside the tunnel, covered in dust and debris, catching their breath after a long shift. Drills and jackhammers were leaning on the rock face beside them, technicians replacing worn drill bits and hammerheads. They all stood and snapped to attention, however, as the truck raced up to the portal.

Stopping the truck, the Gaunt man and the Woman climbed out to meet a Faunus male, a pair of cat ears perched on his head and a mining helmet tucked under his arm, who was waiting for them. He was covered in dust like the workers, but had a smile on his face.

"Commander, we were following the lead set up in the Prophet's Journal when we stumbled onto something that seems promising." He said, holding out a small pouch. The Gaunt man, the Commander, raised a hand, palm up, as the Faunus emptied the contents of the pouch into it. Among a few pieces of rock and stone, a small, glittering black crystal, shot through with chrome streaks, fell into the center of his hand. The Commander gasped aloud as he felt a wave of energy suddenly pass over him, to the concern of the Woman and the Faunus.  
"Sir?" the woman began, but the Commander immediately recovered. Whirling to the Faunus, he began snapping orders, a finger in the cat-man's face.  
"Order all diggers to go to piece-work: picks and hand-chippers." He said a fierce smile on his face. He looked back down at the crystal in his hand as he then spoke to the woman, sliding the crystal back into its pouch and handing it to her.  
"Qray, send this to the old man, and a message: I think we're getting close."

[=]

"Jaune, STOP!"  
Pyrrha finally allowed reason to overcome the pleasant sensation of Jaune holding her hand and yanked herself free of his grasp. Both students stopped short of entering the tower that held professor Ozpin's spacious office, barely missing two official-looking men who exited the doors. Inside, the glittering screens of the CCT hub glowed an almost insultingly cheerful glow.

"What?" Jaune said, before he sighed frustratingly "oh come ON Pyrrha! You heard Blake! Ozpin's gonna be in his office all night, doors open! What better time to ask him?"  
"Jaune, I can't just go barging into the Headmaster's office! That would look-hey!"

"Fine!" Jaune said, taking her hand once more and pulling her through the doors into the tower "I'll go with you! We'll both look ridiculous together!"  
"That's…not…helping!" Pyrrha gritted through her teeth as she tried to pull herself free.

"Pyrrha, you said it yourself, you wanted to know what happened to your brother. If anyone knows, it's Ozpin." Jaune quipped as he half-led, half dragged the redhead over to the elevator doors. Hitting the "up" button, he finally released Pyrrha's hand. She looked torn between slapping him and hugging him, and settled for putting her uniform coat back on and trying to make herself presentable.

"I cannot believe I'm actually going along with this." She huffed, taking a moment to carefully slide the photo of her brother back into its pouch before attempting to straighten her hair. Jaune looked at her, cocking an eyebrow.  
"What happened to my "brilliant" idea?" he said, a wry smile on his face as he put his own coat back on. Pyrrha glared at him for a moment.  
Then, suddenly, she sighed, her anger vanishing under a sudden layer of uncertainty. Her shoulders slumped as she spoke.  
"Jaune…I don't know if I can actually do this."

His own face became concerned.  
"W-what do you mean?"  
Pyrrha's face was a mixture of emotions: nervousness, sadness, a touch of anger, and the barest hint of hope fought for dominance.  
"I mean…yes, I want to know what happened to Jaden, but…"  
she wrapped her arms around herself, turning away from her partner.  
"What if it's worse than I ever imagined? Do I really want to know...that?"

Jaune reached out for her, but she stepped away, her eyes going to the door of the building. Despite her desire to know, she was, at the same time, terrified of knowing. The urge to just leave was pushing towards the front of her mind, and she felt herself beginning to step towards the exit…

"Would you rather go on not knowing?" Jaune's voice rang in her ears.  
She turned back to face him, surprised as she met his gaze, saw his normal, casually supportive smile that he gave her whenever she was upset.  
"Wouldn't you rather learn now, so you can put it to bed, if nothing else?" he went on, an uncommon determination on his face matching the uncommon wisdom in his voice. Pyrrha said nothing, merely continuing to stare at him, as if she'd never seen him before.  
Finally, she sighed, a despairing sound, looking at the floor before she continued.

"I guess I just…" she sighed "...I'm afraid to know, really."  
"Afraid to know?"  
Pyrrha fidgeted uncharacteristically: Jaune, who had seen her face down Grimm larger than the Atlas Robots without flinching, was stunned that she could look so.. frightened. She hugged herself tighter, and toed the floor with her foot in a nervous, fidgety manner, like she was trying to tell him something.

Finally, letting her arms fall to her sides, she clenched her fists and blurted it out.  
"Okay, I admit it…I don't want to believe he's dead."

"What's wrong with that?" Jaune asked, confused.  
"Everything!" Pyrrha cried, frustration and despair filling her whole manner. Her hands shook almost imperceptibly, and her face pinched for a moment.

Jaune was beginning to regret asking Pyrrha about her brother…all it seemed to be doing was upsetting her more. She looked at the floor, her face relaxing with a morose expression, her bangs hiding her eyes.  
"Listen, Jaune…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have unloaded all this on you…"  
"Pyrrha, it's no problem, really-" the blonde tried to cut in, but Pyrrha continued.  
"No, no. I shouldn't have told you about all this. I'm…just being selfish."  
Jaune scoffed at that.  
"How is talking about your brother being selfish?"

"I can't just go around demanding an explanation from Professor Ozpin for a story that's years old…what would it change?" she replied without directly answering him "He'd still be…gone, and all I might succeed in doing is making the hurt worse."  
She shook her head despairingly, sighing and turning away from the elevator. Neither of the teens heard the muted 'ding' from within as Pyrrha continued.  
"I mean…" she said, uncertainty in her voice "I don't even know what to say!"

"How about good evening?"

Both students froze with a start of surprise, and spun around to see their headmaster stride out of the Elevator, omnipresent coffee cup in his hand and a smile on his face.  
"P-Professor Ozpin!" Jaune stammered, as he snapped to attention. The Headmaster of Beacon chuckled.  
"We're not Atlas, Mr. Arc, you needn't be so…militant."

Jaune tried to force himself to relax as their Headmaster smiled down at his students.  
"Also, congratulations to you both, and your team: the selection council was quite vocal about including you in the lineup. I was actually coming to find you all, in fact."

"Thank you, professor, we're honored to be included." Pyrrha said, her hands clasped behind her back, where Ozpin wouldn't see them fidgeting nervously. The two students stood silent for a moment, shoulders hunched as indecisiveness vied with a sudden case of cold feet.

"Was there something you needed to talk about?" Ozpin asked, sensing their hesitation "I'm open for any questions tonight: I've found an open door is easier than a rigorous appointment schedule at the moment."  
Jaune elbowed Pyrrha lightly in the side, causing her to send him a fierce look. Turning her gaze back to her headmaster, she took a long moment before managing to speak.  
"Professor…" she began "May we have a word?"  
Ozpin smiled brighter.

"Of course, Miss Nikos. I always have time for my students." Motioning to the elevator, he ushered the two inside, the door sliding closed behind them.

[=]

"How may I help you tonight, Miss Nikos?"

Pyrrha sat in one of the chairs Ozpin kept in his office for meetings. Jaune stood behind her, trying not to stare out of the windows that ringed the vast room…it was a LONG way down.

The Headmaster of Beacon sat behind his grand desk, the clockwork gears quietly ticking away around them, his paternal gaze fully on his students.  
Pyrrha herself was trying not to fidget under the older man's scrutiny.  
"Well, professor, there's…something I've actually wanted to know for a long time."

"Oh?" Ozpin replied, his smile unwavering as he raised an eyebrow "and what might that be?"

Pyrrha played with her hands, unable to meet Ozpin's eye. Despite her initial euphoria this was starting to feel more and more like a bad idea…  
She then felt Jaune's hand on her shoulder, and started in surprise. Looking up at her team leader with a whisper-quiet gasp, she met his supportive smile.  
"Would you rather go on not knowing?" he repeated, his supportive smile filling her vision.

Pyrrha said nothing for a long moment. Then, nodding slightly, she turned back to Ozpin with a determined look, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"I want…" Pyrrha hesitated "I want to know about my Brother's last mission."

Ozpin's smile vanished.  
Slowly, as though he were releasing a great weight, he set his coffee cup down, leaning forward to place his elbows on his desk and meshing his fingers together. The room seemed to dim, the sound of the overhead clockwork gears seemed to fade.

"Your Brother…"

Ozpin sighed deeply, pushing his glasses higher on his nose as he seemed to…settle into the chair as though he had suddenly aged decades.  
"I wondered when you'd come asking about him."

He suddenly looked much older, as the setting sun deepened the shadows on his face. Pyrrha felt suddenly uncertain.

"Professor, if you'd prefer not to, we'll go" she said as she began to rise, ready to whack Jaune upside the head as soon as they were outside "I-I was just wondering-"

Ozpin held up a hand, cutting her off. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be recalling a dark and distant memory.  
"I thought…" he began "I thought it would get easier with time…easier to tell…and maybe easier to put it behind me. But I suppose some wounds never fully heal."  
He paused, motioning her to sit back down before letting his hands fall to the armrests, as his brow furrowed in concentration.  
"It's been seven years since I last saw him…our penultimate meeting... that I often wished I could have changed what I said."

His eyes suddenly opened, a fierce look that stared directly into Pyrrha's eyes. Jaune felt her stiffen under his hand. But when he spoke, it was directed at Jaune.

"Mr. Arc, if you wish to leave, you may. This might take some time."

Pyrrha turned her lead to look up at her team leader, who peered down and met her eyes. Her face was a mix of "go ahead" and "please stay" to which he was initially conflicted to respond to.

"I think I'll stay, professor." He said at last, coming around the chair Pyrrha sat in and, pulling its twin closer, sitting down beside her. Pyrrha smiled at him as he placed an arm across her back.  
Ozpin let a small smile cross his lips, before his serious expression returned.  
"Very well." He said, before a look of contemplation crossed his face. He drew in a breath and began to speak.

[=]

"Jaden Nikos was, much like you, Pyrrha, a prodigy, a master of his weapons, his semblance, and his aura. He and his team, team JADE, consisting of your Brother, Amber Valewood, Dietrich Feldgrau, and Ebony Shale, accomplished missions that some felt only the most accomplished huntsman and huntresses could undertake. He was popular with the students, the professors, and won the final one-on-one round of the Vytal festival, twice!"

"He was always ready to stand up to those who abused the weak. He defended Faunus students from any abusers, and did not tolerate those who picked on lowerclassmen or those less skilled. It was this compassionate quality that made him an ideal huntsman, in my eyes. Indeed, we spoke often...I admit I was considering him something of a protégé."

"If I was ever to say Jaden had any faults, it would be that he had a perfectionist streak that made him somewhat…self-reliant. He would accomplish assignments and goals, but in a way that always gave him the real workload-and thus the credit. While he never outright abandoned his team, they –DID-have more than their fair share of arguments over his attitude. I believe the most common one was from his partner, Amber, who said, I quote "I sometimes feel like we're just here to be your cheerleaders." But he never let them down when it mattered. For that and his willingness to defend the weak I was willing to overlook a few personality faults."

"I think we were all thus duly shocked when his final mission before Graduation went so wrong…"

At that moment, a cloud passed over the setting sun, casting the room into darkness. Ozpin paused, still remembering back, recalling the details of that tragic day…

"Some said that his manner of doing all the work had allowed his team's skills to atrophy, but I know that's nonsense: all students at Beacon have the meet requirements as individuals as well as a team, and they wouldn't have gotten so far if he was doing all the work. No, what happened to Teams JADE and LCFR was the result of….something else. Something I've spent years trying to quantify but have never been successful in doing so."

Pyrrha had remained frozen during the Headmaster's tale, almost holding her breath.  
Ozpin himself sighed, turning to gaze out the tinted glass of his office windows at the sun setting in the distance.

"He and his team had one final mission to complete before they officially graduated from Beacon. I decided a suitable challenge would be to respond to a distress call from a county in one of the Northern provinces: apparently a local girl had wandered into the marshes nearby that were known to be infested with Grimm. Three rescue teams sent out from her home village had been slaughtered."  
"I still remember watching them as they set out, geared up and ready to take on the world. Had I known it would be the last time I saw them, I would have perhaps gone to them in person."

Jaune gripped Pyrrha tighter as he felt her tense at Ozpin's last sentence. She unconsciously leaned into him: he was struck by how…vulnerable… she seemed to be, in stark contrast to her usual courageous air. She was hanging on to Ozpin's every word, but…seemed to know what was coming.

"JADE, along with team LCFR- Lawton Lovat, Cydney Ashford, Frederic Feldgrau and Robin Shan- left the school as a joint unit: they had worked well together since Initiation, much like your team works well with team RWBY. For the first several days they maintained contact as they traveled north: the location of the distress call was almost on the coastline facing Atlas."

"Their last message was a report that said the village that the call had been sourced from had apparently been attacked by the Grimm, and that they were entering the Marshes."

"I remember…" Pyrrha whispered, almost to herself "he…he sent me a message…he had learned that I had been accepted to Sanctum, and was telling me how proud he was, and how hard we were going to be training when he got home." She spoke the last sentence with a sad laugh of a pleasant memory. Jaune, whose arm was starting to go numb from where it sat on Pyrrha's shoulder, ignored the discomfort as he saw that Pyrrha was struggling to hold on to her emotions.  
Ozpin still stared into the setting sun, his eyes seeming to draw the memories from its glowing disk.

"After that…nothing. For days we awaited some message. Aside from a garbled mass of unintelligible static, we received no word from them. Finally, I called upon the Mission board to send a professional Huntsman team up there…"

"They found team LCFR's bodies first: they had apparently been ambushed by a swarm of Ursa, large ones judging by the condition of the bodies. Following a trail of rampage deeper into the swamp, eventually, they came across…your Brother's team. Or what was left of them."

Pyrrha shuddered under Jaune's hand, and he tightened his supportive grip on her shoulder. Ozpin continued.

"I won't tell you the grisly details. Out of all four of them, only Amber was still alive, and just barely. She…didn't last long…just long enough to tell us where Jaden went."  
"Where he…went?" Jaune asked.  
Ozpin sighed.

"She said she saw him get dragged into the swamp by a King Taijitu…he never came up. A search of the water found his jacket…stained with blood and torn almost beyond recognition."  
Pyrrha nodded, a hand going to her eyes as she fought back tears at the memories that came forth.

"We still have it." she said "My parents put it in his Footlocker, put it in the Attic and then…" She sighed, a defeated, despairing sound, as her hand dropped.

"They forbade me to ever mention his name in their presence, and always reprimanded me if I ever tried to go up and just look at his things. They always told me to "stop living in the past" and…"

She hugged herself, as Jaune placed his other hand on her arm supportively.  
"It's like they tried to forget he ever existed…."

Professor Ozpin sighed again as he stood and came around his desk, getting down on one knee before Pyrrha and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I consider what happened to your Brother and his team to be one of my greatest failures as a teacher. I almost resigned over the incident: only the constant refusal to accept it by the council kept me on."

He stood, and, as Pyrrha and Jaune followed him with their eyes, walked over to the window, this one overlooking the courtyard below. Students were getting out of their final classes for the day, some heading for the main eating hall while others headed back to the dorms. Ozpin looked over his domain, highlighted by the setting sun. It seemed to bring into visual focus the burden he felt as an educator and a Huntsman.

"To this day, I take their loss as a lesson: no matter how skilled, how well-trained, how powerful you are…there will always be something that can undo you."  
he turned and looked at the two students. His expression was serious, downright grave.

"Remember that."

His face then softened, as he slowly walked back towards his desk.  
"and remember him as he lived, Pyrrha, not how he died. Don't let this drag you down, especially now."  
Pyrrha nodded, forcing a smile onto her face.  
"thank you Professor."

"I'm…sorry if I only confirmed bad news." Ozpin replied as he sat down once more. Pyrrha shook her head, slumping slightly in the chair.  
"Honestly…I'm not sure I was expecting anything else. I mean, it's been seven years…if he were still…alive, he'd have contacted my family by now…."

Ozpin only nodded. For several long moments, all three were silent, Jaune looking at Pyrrha as her face pinched, her eyes closed…and then she suddenly smiled, a determined expression on her face.

"I'll do my best to live up to the Legacy he left behind." She said, her tone suddenly full of its old vigor, as she smiled at Professor Ozpin. He returned her expression with a grin of his own.  
"I can't think of anything that would make him happier." He said.

"Thank you for your time, Professor Ozpin." Pyrrha said, as she stood, pulling free of Jaune's arm and straightening her skirt "but we've still got final exams to study for, don't we Jaune?"  
"uuuh, yeah?" Jaune said as he scrambled to his feet "um, listen, Pyrrha, why don't we-"  
"Come on!" Pyrrha said with a laugh as she took his hand and pulled him towards the door "I'm sure professor Ozpin has still got a busy night ahead of him, let's not take up any more of his time."

"Okay, okay! Sheesh, is this meant to be payback for pulling you-OW!" Jaune cried as Pyrrha dragged him to the elevator.

As she all but threw him into the car, Pyrrha eep-ing out a "sorry!" as Jaune thudded into the wall, neither of them could see Ozpin's smile.

 _"Like Brother like Sister"_ he thought to himself as he picked up his coffee cup, the Elevator doors closing before him. Despite this, he remained where he sat, turning his chair to look at the setting sun as old memories filled his mind…

[=]

Pyrrha hadn't been kidding: Final Exams were coming up fast, and team JNPR was as concerned as all first-years about making sure nothing hurt their final grades. Pyrrha had been unusually quiet during supper, as her team ate their meal with team RWBY in the massive dining hall where, a few weeks prior, they had both unleashed an enormous food fight. Jaune idly mentioned that they had talked to Professor Ozpin without going into details, which unleashed a gushing of excitement from Nora and Ruby about the tournaments in the fall.  
Jaune noticed Blake grudgingly slip Ruby a five-lien note, to which the younger girl was smugly smiling. Ren, as serious as ever, had proposed a study session in the Library, which had elicited approval from Blake and Weiss and profound groans from Nora, Ruby and Jaune.  
Yang, however, apparently hadn't heard, and seemed to be focused on Pyrrha, who was staring idly off into the distance, resting her head on a closed fist, her elbow on the table. she'd barely touched her dinner, and hadn't protested when Nora had scooped up the slice of cake she'd grabbed for dessert. Indeed, she hadn't even seemed to notice.

"Hey, Pyrrha, everything okay?" she asked, reaching out to place a hand on Pyrrha's own. The redhead started with a 'huh?', her train of thought broken by the touch.  
"you seem kinda distracted." The blonde went on, as everyone turned their attention to Pyrrha. The redhead looked at each of them, her eyes lingering on Jaune for a long moment, before she sighed, and put a smile on her face.  
"I'm just thinking…" she said "you know, exams, the tournament, all that. And Summer break…"

"Oh, that's right, we forgot to tell you!" Nora said with a sudden excitement. Pyrrha regarded her bubbly teammate with confusion as her words came out in her usual run-on babble.

"Jaune invited us to stay at his place over the summer, as in Ren and I, because you know that we don't really have anywhere to go back to and we kinda have to leave campus for the summer, and it's kinda sad to think about, ANYWAY, Jaune said if we wanted to we could come spend the summer at his family's house, so we could train for the tournament and, you know, have a place to stay and all that, and he talked to his parents and they said yes and we're SO EXCITED and we're just all-"

"Jaune was kind enough to offer Nora and I a place to stay this summer." Ren translated for the others, who looked rather shell-shocked by how long Nora was able to speak without taking a breath. He smiled his usual near-imperceptible smile at Pyrrha "he was wondering if you'd like to come as well?"

Pyrrha turned her head to Jaune, surprise on her face. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.  
"Well…I WAS gonna ask you earlier, but we kinda just…got into some things…" he said, an embarrassed smile on his face. Pyrrha felt a smile tug at her lips.

"I'd have to ask my parents first." She said "but if I tell them it's for training, I'm sure they wouldn't mind."  
Nora almost exploded with a delighted "WHEEEEEE!" that bounced her into the air, much to the surprise of the others. Ren pushed her back down to her seat with an expression that said he was used to this sort of thing.

Pyrrha, smiling at her teammate's antics, stood up from the table, taking her tray with her.  
"if you'll all excuse me" she said politely "I'll go and send them a message now."

"sure thing." Jaune said "We'll see you back at the dorms, okay?"  
"Okay!" Pyrrha called over her shoulder as she walked away from the group. As the others dove back into a conversation, Jaune's eyes lingered on Pyrrha as she deposited her tray into the chute that would take it to the dishwashers and left the dining hall.

[=]

The redhead remained on his mind for the remainder of the meal, her uncharacteristic distance worrying him, and all the way back to the dorms he couldn't help but feel she was more upset than she was letting on.

After he, Nora and Ren wished Team RWBY goodnight, they entered their dorm to find Pyrrha already in bed. Not wanting to disturb her and acknowledging that they still had class in the morning, Jaune mouthed "bedtime" to his teammates and, changing into his pajamas, slid into bed, Nora and Ren doing likewise.

But a restful sleep was hard to come by, and Jaune was dragged back to awareness by the sound of footsteps. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with the familiar sight of Pyrrha's Ponytail, as the redhead exited their shared dorm room, silently closing the door behind her.  
"Pyrrha?" he said in quiet surprise. it was rare that she would get up in the middle of the night.

Worry etched on his face, he retrieved his scroll (he couldn't count how many times he'd locked himself out of his room by forgetting it) and, leaving the sleeping forms of Ren and Nora, silently followed his partner.  
there was one place he was certain she was going…

"Okay…no, not the Bathroom" he said to himself as, passing the open door of the girls bathroom he saw no lights within.  
but where, then?  
Then it struck him.  
"Of course." He said, and allowed his feet to carry him on a familiar path.

Ascending a service stairway, he came upon the access door to an open area of the Dorm's roof, where he and Pyrrha commonly came to train and…talk. Quietly opening the door, he mouthed a silent cheer of success at the sight of the redhead, framed by the glowing disc of the moon. She turned in surprise as he came out onto the roof, fiddling with the buttons on her loose pajama shirt.  
"Pyrrha?" he said, concern replacing his self-congratulations as she hastily wiped at her eyes.

"Oh, Jaune. You startled me." She said. Jaune silently closed the door behind him, never taking his eyes off of Pyrrha.

"Everything okay?" he asked, as he stepped towards her "it's a little late for training…"  
Pyrrha smiled at his statement, but it faded as she sighed, kicking lightly at a piece of debris on the roof.

"I was just thinking about…things." She said.  
"Things? Like what?" Jaune asked.

Pyrrha didn't answer immediately, looking down at her bare feet. When she finally did speak, disappointment was clear in her voice.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to come spend the summer at your place." She said sadly. Jaune's face fell. Pyrrha continued.  
"My Parents absolutely refused." She said, a sigh in her voice, as though she had expected this. Jaune spoke, his own disappointment evident.

"Did they say why?"  
Pyrrha shook her head, but continued speaking.  
"I expect it's because they want to supervise my training: they're both experienced fighters and have kept a close eye on me and my fitness upkeep."

"But we were going to be training!" Jaune burst out "We were gonna spend the whole summer practicing so we'd be ready for the Tournament, didn't you tell them-"  
"Of course I told them!" Pyrrha shot back, harsher than she'd intended. She saw Jaune flinch, and sighed, her anger vanishing as quickly as it came.  
"Sorry." She sighed "that came out wrong." She paused, hugging herself loosely, before continuing.  
"My parents have…always kept a close eye on me. Did you know they didn't even want me to come to Beacon? They said they'd rather I went to Haven, so I'd be closer to home."  
Jaune didn't reply for a long moment. The soft breeze tugged at their pajamas as they stood on the rooftop, and the light from the moon cast the light and shadows into fierce contrast.  
"It's because of your brother, isn't it?" he said at last. Pyrrha nodded.  
"I expect so…mom and dad changed after he…died. They became obsessively overprotective of me…for the first few weeks after we got the message my mom had a nervous breakdown if I was out of her sight."  
she clenched her fists as she continued.  
"You should have seen the row we had when I told them I had been accepted to Beacon…I thought my Mom was going to have a heart attack. It took my great Uncle Spartacus to convince them to let me go, and that took almost until the application deadline. I was honestly afraid for a time that my papers weren't going to clear."  
she slowly relaxed her fists, her arms still loosely about herself as she turned away from her partner to look up at the moon.  
"It's like…all the happiness went out of my home after Jaden disappeared..."

The pair stood there in the moonlight, Jaune unsure of what to say. He'd never lost a sibling (and thank goodness for that) and couldn't fathom the depths of sadness Pyrrha must have experienced in her life.  
He began, at last, to speak, but Pyrrha beat him to it.  
"Jaune…"  
the Blonde fell silent, regarding his teammate, who leaned on the railing, staring up at the moon. Jaune was struck by how the light seemed to catch on her scarlet hair…and how her body was highlighted in her thin pajamas. He swallowed as he tried to find words, but Pyrrha continued.  
"Thank you."  
"Thank you? For what?"

"For giving me the strength to find out." Pyrrha replied "I don't think I would have had the nerve to go talk to Professor Ozpin about something so…personal. To be honest, I HAD actually thought of talking to him, but…I guess it just never seemed as important as everything we were doing. And…(sigh) the end result…wasn't any better than I expected."  
she sighed again, before turning to regard Jaune, who was fidgeting under the scrutiny of his partner.  
"Hey, Pyrrha?"  
"yes?"  
Jaune shuffled his feet for a moment, unable to meet her eyes.  
"I'm...sorry. sorry I dragged you into that, I mean."  
"Sorry? Whatever for?"  
Jaune fidgeted for a moment in his bunny pajamas, looking for the entire world like a child who had committed an egregious wrong and was looking for the best way to spin it.

"It's just…Pyrrha…I've never seen you like this, this…broken up over something. I can tell that this is still an open wound for you. After everything you did for me, I just thought…." He shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging, and kicked at the roof "I dunno…maybe I could help you get some…closure."  
Pyrrha smiled at him, which made his heart flutter for the briefest moment. He'd begun to notice that her smile did that more and more these days….

"Thank you, Jaune." She said "I do appreciate it."  
Her smile faded as she turned back to stare up at the moon.  
"I guess…I don't know, I guess I was just hoping a dream I had once was…not a dream."

"A Dream?" Jaune repeated, walking towards her.  
She gently hugged herself as she leaned on the raining of the roof, recently installed because of how often students came up there. A gentle breeze blew across the courtyard, catching her long scarlet hair and wafting it in Jaune's direction as he approached her. It seemed to sparkle as it flowed, and he caught the barest scent of her cinnamon-scented shampoo…a pleasant smell, sweet…enticing. He came back to the here and now as Pyrrha continued speaking.

"It's…it's an old memory, a vague one, but…I swear, the day after we got the letter saying he went missing on a mission… I heard his voice..."  
still with her back to him, Jaune saw her wipe at her eyes.  
"He came into my room, in the middle of the night….I was in that weird aura between drowsy and asleep, where nothing really clicks…"  
she idly played with her ponytail as she recounted the memory.  
"He tucked my blankets up around me, stroked my hair…told me he loved me, told me I'd see him again…and then he was gone."

Jaune slowly walked closer to his partner as he saw her shoulders briefly tremble. Despite that, she was smiling when she spoke.  
"I know it was him…he called me by the affectionate nickname he had for me…"Little Firesprite"  
"Little Firesprite?" Jaune repeated with a smile. She shot him a look, her smile unwavering.  
"Don't even think about it" she laughed "Only he and great Uncle Spartacus get to call me that."  
her smile vanished, however, as she continued.  
"I was too asleep to really register it…I was still broken up over the whole thing, hearing that he'd gone missing, my parents fearing the worst…the next morning at breakfast, I told my parents that I'd heard him, in the house." She laughed halfheartedly "they didn't believe me of course. I guess they were still torn up about it…they snapped at me when I still wanted to talk about him…they still do…"

As he sidled up beside Pyrrha, her words struck Jaune as odd…he could understand grief, but forbidding Pyrrha to ever talk about him? Trying to erase him from their family? That wasn't something one did to a lost loved one…more like a loved one who had done something wrong…

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a sniffle from his redheaded partner. He turned his attention back to Pyrrha….and was stunned to see the crystalline tracks of tears running down her cheeks.

"Pyrrha…" He said, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, but froze as she held up one of her own. She stared to wipe her eyes, but paused as Jaune reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. She eyed him quizzically.  
"You carry a handkerchief in your pajamas?" She asked, a skeptical expression on her face as she eyed the folded material. He shrugged, giving her a friendly smile.  
"My dad always said, you'll never know when a Hankie will come in handy." He said as he held it out to her.

Despite herself, Pyrrha couldn't help but chuckle at something so…typically Jaune. Taking the proffered hankie, she wiped her eyes clean and quickly blew her nose. She folded it back over, handing it back to Jaune with an apologetic smile.  
"Thank you Jaune."  
Jaune accepted the dirtied hankie without comment, but kept his smile on and his eyes on his partner.  
"Pyrrha…I'm always here if you need…I dunno, an ear to listen to you." Jaune said, placing a hand on her shoulder. He felt her briefly start under his touch (she always seemed to do that) but her smile was genuine.  
"After what you've done for me, it's the least I can do." He went on. Her smile seemed to waver for a moment, but it didn't vanish.  
"Thank you, Jaune." She said. He smiled his wide, dorky smile.

"That's the third 'thank you' tonight. Is that your new 'I'm Sorr-" he began to quip, but was cut off as an icy gust of wind blew off the sea across the campus, catching them both by surprise in their thin attire. Pyrrha wrapped her arms around herself, and both shivered in the sudden cold.  
"Brrr…we'd better get back inside." Jaune said, as he reached out to guide Pyrrha towards the door. However, she shook him off.

"You go on ahead…." She said. She smiled at his concerned expression.  
"I'll be down in a minute, cross my heart." She said reassuringly. Jaune seemed unsure, but her smile disarmed him.

"Alright…" he said, walking back towards the door that led inside "but if you're not back in the room in five minutes, I'm coming back out."  
"Is that a promise?" Pyrrha asked jokingly. Jaune smiled, guessing that whatever had her down had passed.

[=]

Would that Pyrrha felt as good as Jaune thought.

As she watched her partner return to the darkened interior of the dorm, her smile faded, and she turned to look back up at the moon. It was in its phase where she could clearly pick out the shattered chunks that remained trapped in its gravity field.  
as she stared at the unsymmetrical spheroid, her memories went back to long ago, as she drew the photo of her and her brother out from where she had hastily hidden it inside her shirt. In the light of the moon, she could see it's details clearly, as thoughts of a happier time came to her mind…

 _…The long day at the beach had ended, and, after a filling barbecue dinner and some of Great Uncle Spartacus' stories, Jaden had volunteered to put Little Pyrrha, who was nodding off in her Great Uncle's lap, to bed. As their parents and great uncle continued chatting, Jaden had deftly scooped his younger sister into his arms and brought her up to her bedroom, a large, airy room at the peak of the massive house, with glittering gossamer curtains catching the wind and providing a gentle soothing lullaby as chimes embedded into their fibers played whimsical sounds._

 _Already in her Pajamas, the five-year-old looked up through the massive skylights at the moon overhead, taking in the bright lights as Jaden tucked her in. A question popped into her mind, and she looked to her brother with her wide, youthful eyes._ _  
_ _"Big Brother, can I ask you something?"_ _  
_ _"You just did" Jaden smirked, laughing as Pyrrha stuck her tongue out at him._ _  
_ _"Yes, yes, of course. What's up?"_ _  
_ _Pyrrha turned her innocent eyes back up towards the skylight, Jaden following her eyes as they both gazed at the moon above._

 _"Why is the moon like that?" Pyrrha asked._ _  
_ _"Like what?"_ _  
_ _"With all those pieces behind it…did someone break it?"_ _  
_ _Jaden chuckled._ _  
_ _"Well, no one's really sure, Little Firesprite. Some people think that it's just…always been like that. Others think it was hit with a piece of a bigger space rock a long LONG time ago. And some people think…" Jaden said, before he raised his hands in a claw-like fashion and put on a scary face_ _  
_ _"… There was a Grimm inside that tried to get out." He finished with a decidedly cheesy snarl. Pyrrha 'eep'd!" in sudden fear at the sound._ _  
_ _"Wow…that musta been a REALLY big Grimm..." she began to fidget, pulling her blankets up and around her head, her little face peering out "I hope it doesn't come here…"_ _  
_ _Jaden fought down a laugh at his sister's innocent fears, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her fearful gaze met his comforting, confident eyes as he spoke._ _  
_ _"Not to worry, little Firesprite, you've got Big Bro here to protect you!"_ _  
_ _She shifted towards him, letting the blanket fall from her head as her scarlet hair spilled out. Jaden's wry smile faded to a comforting one as he realized he had really scared his sister._ _  
_ _"Promise?" she whimpered as she gripped the front of his T-shirt, looking up at him, truly afraid some giant Grimm was going to suddenly pop out of the moon "You promise you'll always be here?"_ _  
_ _Jaden smiled as he pulled his sister into a hug, cradling her tiny body, wrapped in the warm embrace of her blankets, holding her close as she hid her face inside the loose folds of his shirt._ _  
_ _"I promise, Pyrrha. I'll always protect you."_

 _"Always."_

"… Jaden…" Pyrrha whispered, the cool breeze sending involuntary shivers up her body as, her hands still gripping the photo, a few tears fell from her cheeks to patter onto the roof of the dorm.


	4. Chapter 3: School's out!

_Dig site, Northern Vale._

In the dead of the night, as darkness enveloped the camp and the majority of the personnel were asleep, the Commander slipped out of his command tent, pulling his coat tighter about his shoulders to ward off the nighttime chill on the empty steppe. The camp was quiet and still, with only a few guards on watch, accompanied by the distant ring of work on the dig site. Here and there, puddles had formed in the dirt lanes of the camp, the result of a recent rain. The dry ground had absorbed most of it, but the mud still pulled at the Commander's boots as he walked towards the center of the encampment.

Over the past few days his work crews had been slowly widening and enlarging the tunnels dug into the side of the cliff face, as well as the tunnel that had produced the small crystal. The work on the latter was tedious: at his insistence, the men had ceased using the powerful mining equipment in favor of hand tools. This was a necessity in his eyes: the last thing he needed was for some errant drill to take out a supporting rock structure and bring the whole cavern down on the digger's heads.

To say nothing of the cataclysm that would be unleashed if someone struck a more serious vein in the rock...

He stalked past a patrol truck that slowly made its way up and down the avenues of the camp, responding to the salutes of the men inside without looking at them. He'd personally made sure of the tightness of the patrol schedules and perimeter defenses, lest some intruder or errant Grimm find their way in among the people who served under him.  
Not that the Grimm ever came within forty miles of this location...  
Approaching the Communications tent, visible by the large CCT tower outside, he waited until the truck had turned the corner behind him before entering.

Qray stood there, waiting by one of the consoles: all other personnel had been dismissed for the moment. A few puddles had formed on the floor due to leaks in the overhead tarp, but the equipment, safely elevated on cinderblocks and mesh pallets, had been spared any damage.  
Qray focused for a moment on the console, adjusting a few frequency knobs and keying in a series of codes. She turned to the Commander as he strode up.  
"Commander: the old man is on Line 1, awaiting your transmission. everything's ready." She said, holding out a headset towards him. Nodding and taking a deep, preparatory breath, he stepped past his lieutenant and sat down in a folding chair that had been erected. Sliding the headset over his ears, he looked up at the fuzzy image of a middle-aged man with fierce white hair and moustache that appeared on the monitor, seated behind a desk. Beyond him, through a large window, the Commander could see a massive industrial complex.

"Commander Pyrrhos" the man spoke, his voice deep and cutting.

"Mr. Schnee." The Commander replied. The old man, Eisen Schnee, owner of Schnee Dust and its affiliated industries, glared at him through ice-blue eyes, the intended effect of which was slightly undone by the scraggly moustache that sat like a furry cat on the man's upper lip. The Commander had to resist the urge to smile at the sight. Schnee continued to speak.

"I have received the sample your Subordinate so graciously provided: my chief scientist has informed me that the provided piece alone can produce as much energy as an entire shipping crate of Fire dust."  
He leaned forward, elbows on his desk and hands meshed before his face. Now hiding the ridiculous moustache, his eyes became much more striking. Pyrrhos cast a quick glance to his left, where Qray was keeping her eyes on a wristwatch, apparently keeping the time. Schnee continued speaking.  
"As you have produced visible results, I have thusly followed through with the first part of my deal. The promised equipment will be delivered in the next few days, more to be sent upon reception of your first shipment."

The Commander hid his relief. Aside from money and digging equipment, Schnee had promised him a vital supply of badly needed parts for…another project. As well as promised information once their transaction was complete…information vital to his plans…  
"Understood." He replied "My digging teams believe they have found the cavern mentioned in the Prophet's Journal: they're going slowly to make sure the room isn't mined."

Behind his hands, Schnee scoffed.  
"any traps laid by those old fools would have long since succumbed to time and rot at this point, Commander. For a leader of an organization named Requiem, you seem to be rather concerned with death amongst your ranks."  
Pyrrhos fought down a surge of rage at this… businessman's casual dismissal of his people's lives. Taking another look at Qray, who held up three fingers and slowly counted down, he continued speaking.

"And for a man who has seen the power a piece of alchemical rock smaller than his thumb can generate, you seem awfully dismissive of the abilities of its creators. Sir." The Commander replied. Schnee scowled. Qray, meanwhile, slowly counted her fingers down to one, before a small smile crossed her face.

"I await your first shipment, Commander Pyrrhos." Schnee said, cutting off the transmission. Pyrrhos slowly slid the headset off his ears, resisting the urge to put his fist through the screen. He had been reluctant to join forces with Schnee…the man was everything he and his organization was opposed to.

"Arrogant Atlas swine." He growled "if I didn't need those spare parts, I'd-"  
"Sir…" Qray said hesitantly, placing a hand on her leader's shoulder. He exhaled heavily, closing his eyes as he slumped in the chair.  
"I Know, I know….."  
He paused for a long moment, reaching up and covering Qray's hand with his own. She was a lifesaver in so many ways…  
Finally, taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at his lieutenant, all business once more.  
"So, did we-?"  
"Yes" Qray said with a smile, as she reached down and unplugged a portable USB drive from the communications monitor the Commander had been using "the program is in his systems. We'll have everything in short order."  
"Good." Pyrrhos said as he began to stand.

Suddenly, he grabbed his chest, his eyes wide as he gasped in sudden pain.  
"Commander!" Qray cried, her neutral tone becoming one of concern as she reached out and grabbed her leader's shoulders, steadying him as he collapsed to his knees. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his pupils pinpricks as he clutched his chest in a death grip, his breaths gasping and ragged. His fingers clawed into his flesh, and finally, a wet, hacking cough ejected a coagulated mass of blood, mucus and flesh from his throat.

Blood dripping from his lips, he sucked in air, more coughs dislodging subsequent wet masses of biological matter from his throat. Qray held him up, rubbing his back, frustration at her inability to do more clear on her face.

Finally, the Commander's agony seemed to subside, his breaths becoming more normal. He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand as he was finally able to let go of his chest. When he opened them again, his gaze fell upon something lying on the ground before him.  
His jerking movements had dislodged the simple clay figure of the girl from his pocket, and his eyes widened as he scooped it up and gingerly placed it back in its protective spot.

"Not yet…" Pyrrhos gasped when he was at last able to make a sound "Not…yet….I still have much to do…"  
His eyes rested on one of the puddles that dotted the floor, the shattered façade of the moon reflected in it through one of the holes in the tent.  
He then noticed something else reflected in the pool. Resisting the urge to look up, he slowly reached inside his jacket, trying to keep his movements hidden from any angle of viewing above him.  
"Qray…" he said, slowly, quietly, as a metallic *click* was suddenly heard "How many of your birds did you bring?"  
Qray, who was kneeling beside him, looked confused.  
"Only two, sir, Allen and Lenore. Why do you ask?"

Pyrrhos didn't answer. Instead, in a flash of movement, he drew a wicked looking Tomahawk-gun from inside his coat and, gripping it by the head, his hands protected from the razor-edged blade by the reverse of the cutting edge, he raised it and fired three shots at the hole in the tarp directly above the puddle.

A loud _SQUAWK!_ Echoed from outside and, through the newly-enlarged hole above, Qray, looking up in surprise, could see a bird silhouetted against the moon as it flew away, trailing feathers.  
A few of those feathers floated down to rest in the puddle, some smoldering from near-misses of the bullets.

Crow's feathers…

[=]

Semester Exams came and went, and Jaune somehow managed to struggle through the tests and sparring matches. Aside from a moment of satisfaction where he threw Cardin Winchester out of the ring, the experience left him drained and exhausted. The same could be said for the rest of his team, and on their last morning before they departed for summer break, Team JNPR lounged in their bedroom, still in their pajamas. Jaune, Nora and Ren had already packed, labeled and handed off their larger bags to be shipped to Jaune's home, while Pyrrha's had already been shipped out to be returned to Mistral. The four teens sat idly on their beds, travel bags stacked in one corner, letting the tensions of the past few days fall away from them. Even Nora seemed drained. Some of their friends, such as team RWBY, had already departed: it was easy enough for Ruby and Yang, for their home was close by, as it was for Blake, who had accepted an invitation to join them. Weiss had reluctantly refused their extended invite to herself, and had departed for her home in Atlas the night before.  
Jaune and Nora had both tried to start conversations with their teammates, but out of an effort to avoid the disappointment of Pyrrha being unable to join them at Jaune's home, they found a suitable topic hard to come by. As the sun rose higher in the sky, they resisted the urge to just go back to sleep. They lounged, letting the day flow by, but it was clear Pyrrha and Nora were restless. Pyrrha sat cross-legged on her bed in the strapless tank-top, short-shorts and black thigh-high tights she typically wore under her armor, and was fiddling with Milo, adjusting the sights on its rifle-mode. Nora, meanwhile, lay on her own bed, her legs up the wall, tapping her foot in irritation. The sound echoing in the silence.

"Anyone for pancakes?" asked abruptly. Pyrrha shot her a quizzical look as she glanced up from her weapon, a screwdriver held just so between her fingers.  
"didn't you already pack your cooking gear?" she asked. Nora scoffed.  
"I NEVER pack my pancake gear too deeply, young Pupil." She said in a deep facsimile of a wise mentor's tone, her ongoing efforts to teach Pyrrha how to make pancakes well-known in the dormitories. (considering how many fire alarms the "classes" had set off.)  
Pyrrha's initial reluctance to indulge in the sweet hotcakes had only increased Nora's determination to both feed and teach her, and even the health-conscious redhead couldn't say no to the fluffy confections.

"Sure, I guess." Jaune said as he extracted himself from his bed, stretching out his back. Nora, with a squeal of delight, sprang from her own mattress and reached into her duffel bag, instantly producing a hotplate and pan: the dorm's small stove had already been shut off.  
"Jaune, could you and Ren run down to the commissary and get some milk?" she asked as she pulled out a box of pancake mix "We used up what we had on Cereal last night."  
"If there's any left, sure." Jaune replied as, pulling on his jeans over his pajamas, he headed for the door. "Ren, you coming?"  
His dark-haired companion merely "mmph'd" in reply, from where he lay face-down on his own bed. Zombie-like, he stood and lurched after Jaune out of their shared room: he'd had his sparring exams the previous day and was still feeling the wear and tear. Jaune smiled sheepishly and patted him on the back as the two walked out the door.

After they'd left, Nora turned to Pyrrha, a mischievous smile on her face as she finished laying out the materials for the imminent pancake-ing.  
"Now then, as we've got a few minutes to ourselves and we're not gonna get to talk face-to-face for nine weeks" she said with an evil glint to her eyes, which Pyrrha met with a nervous expression. Nora's face then lit up like a flare as she continued.  
"… Let's have ourselves a girl-to-girl chat!"

Pyrrha stared in surprise at her teammate, before sighing: Nora's attempts at "girl talks" were usually centered around one topic…

"sooooooooooo…." Nora drew out as she rummaged for a mixing bowl from her bag "Blake told me you and Jaune were caught in a rather…interesting position, the other night."  
Pyrrha blushed as she recalled the event, and Nora giggled as she stood up, "booping" her teammate on the nose.

"Want to tell me what happened?" she went on, reaching back into the duffel for chocolate chips and syrup. Pyrrha, sensing she wouldn't have much to do for the immediate moment, uncrossed her long legs, flipping Milo back into Sword mode and setting it against Akouo where it lay on her travel bag as she watched Nora work.  
"Well…" she hesitated "Jaune and I were chatting about…..some personal things."  
"You mean your brother?"  
Pyrrha looked up in shock at the redhead's statement as Nora stood up, her arms full of pancake ingredients. She continued speaking as she laid the mass on the table next to the pan and turned to face her teammate.  
"Ruby told us you showed her and Blake a photo of your brother, and you were gonna go talk to Ozpin about him." Nora went on, her face suddenly falling at Pyrrha's expression.  
"Sorry…I didn't know it was priva-"  
"Oh no, no!" Pyrrha stammered, waving her arms as she sheepishly laughed "No, you just…surprised me, is all."

Her face slowly reverted to a saddened expression, as she reached over to her travel bag and extracted the pouch. As Nora trotted over to her side, Pyrrha drew the familiar photo out of its pocket, holding it up for Nora to see.

"Awwww…" Nora cooed as she smiled at the five-year-old Pyrrha in the photo, before her attention turned to Jaden. Her eyes widened as she looked him over.  
"He's got your hair" she said, noting the scarlet locks both siblings in the photo shared. She seemed to be drawn to the wide smile the young Pyrrha in the photo had plastered on her face. A thoughtful look came to her own face, a rarity for Nora.

"The only time I ever saw you smile like that was…." She began, but Pyrrha spoke for her.  
"The Dance…" she said, remembering her reaction to Jaune's dramatic arrival in a dress. A smile tugged at her lips at the memory.

Nora sat down beside her teammate: as she'd gotten to know Pyrrha, she'd come to see, as had Ren, that Pyrrha was reluctant to open herself up to others, even when she was hurting herself by not doing so. As the dance had approached, Nora had tried to encourage Pyrrha to admit her feelings for Jaune, even as Pyrrha had advised the oblivious Jaune on how to ask Weiss to the dance.

Nora respected Pyrrha enough to have never even let Ren know about how she'd heard Pyrrha crying when she'd thought she was alone later that evening…

Even with the seeming progress Jaune and Pyrrha had made in getting closer, Nora could see that both of the two's own inherent awkwardness had built a wall between them that they simultaneously built up and tore down. Here and now, with long separation imminent and sad memories of her brother on Pyrrha's mind, Nora decided to offer some simple advice.  
"Pyrrha…" she said slowly "Sometimes…you have to just do what comes naturally…."

Pyrrha said nothing, merely smiling at her teammate as she slid the photo back into the pouch and put it back in her bag. Nora reached out and placed a supportive hand on Pyrrha's shoulder: for all her bubblyness, she could be serious when she had to be.

She prepared to speak more, but Jaune and Ren chose that moment to return, gasping for breath as they held a quart carton of Milk in the air triumphantly.  
"Last one…had to…fight off…CFVY…Yatsu is…BIG…" Jaune gasped as Ren leaned forward, hands on his knees.  
[=]

"Well GREAT!" Coco snarled, crushing a paper coffee cup in her hand as Velvet tried to calm her down "NOW I'll have to use CREAM!"  
"I DETEST cream!" the CFVY team leader went on, as Fox tried to help Yatsu out of the bushes Jaune and Ren had tripped him into in their mad dash to escape the almost empty commissary store.

{=}

"Thank you boys" Nora said as she sprang from her position beside Pyrrha and daintily plucked the carton from Jaune's hand, who promptly collapsed to the floor, eliciting a gasp from Pyrrha as the tall redhead got to her feet.

"Now! My Young Apprentice…" Nora said, turning to Pyrrha, who paused in her movement to Jaune's side "this will be your final test! Are you prepared?"

Straightening up and seeing that Jaune wasn't unconscious as he gave her a weak thumbs-up, Pyrrha couldn't help but smile at Nora, and bowed respectfully before speaking.  
"You have taught me well, Pancake master Nora. I shall not fail you." She said, desperately trying not to giggle.  
"You'd Better not!" Jaune gasped "after what we went through to get that milk…."  
"SILENCE!" Nora Commanded "My apprentice is about to begin!" At which Pyrrha couldn't help but laugh aloud, a hand hiding her mirth as she held it to her face.  
Taking the carton from Nora's offered hand-and wondering when Nora had tied an Apron about her waist-Pyrrha turned to the bowl on the table, where Nora had already emptied the contents of the pancake mix.  
"Instructions…add one pint of milk…" she said to herself, taking the measuring up and pouring the requisite amount, stopping at just the right line. Behind her, Nora stood, the most serious expression Jaune had ever seen on her face, as he helped Ren over to his bed.  
Depositing the white liquid into the bowl, Pyrrha took the electric mixer in her free hand and paused, taking a deep breath, one hand steadying the bowl. Nora seemed to hold her own breath.

With an electric WHIRRRR, the mixer sprang to life, and, inserting it into the coagulating mix, Pyrrha deftly maneuvered it around the bowl, attacking each clump of batter and fiercely blending the ingredients, not allowing any of the mixture to escape or splatter. Her memories of her first attempt were fresh in her mind…she swore she could still find clumps of dough in her hair.  
Before long, her opponent had been reduced to nothing more than a bowl of white goo.  
Nora stepped forward, a critical expression on her face as she inspected the results.  
"You have met your first opponent…and defeated him" she said at last, smiling approvingly at Pyrrha. Despite herself, Pyrrha bowed once more, regardless of the wide smile on her lips.  
"BUT!" Nora went on "you now face your REAL challenge!"  
She turned and gestured dramatically to the preheated pan on the hotplate, as thunder suddenly boomed. Ren looked up in confusion for the source of the noise (the sky was perfectly clear) while Jaune, playing along with the game, cried out dramatically  
"Master Nora, NO! She's not ready; it's too much for her to handle-!"  
Nora Scoffed, turning up her nose like a countess as she pushed Pyrrha, bowl in hand, over to the pan.  
"My apprentice has received the finest training in the world, Squire Jaune! You would do well to mind your place! Now… FETCH HER WEAPON!"  
Acting half-heartedly the humble squire, Jaune reached into Nora's bag and withdrew a pink-handled Metal Spatula, which he held out to Nora as though it were a sword. Taking it deftly, Nora turned, presenting it to Pyrrha, waving it over each shoulder as though she were knighting her.  
"Your final test is at hand…" she said gravely "Trust in your teaching…..for this will be the deciding challenge."  
Pyrrha was fighting down the urge to laugh aloud at all of this, and turned to the pan, regarding it with the same expression she regarded a challenger in the sparring ring. Setting the bowl to one side, she took the spatula from Nora's hand and, placing it down, took up the bowl once more.  
Slowly, hesitantly, she tipped it, gently letting the batter slip to the edge of the bowl. Her hands were rock-steady, her will ironclad. This was another challenge to be faced… and conquered.  
Then, with a deft movement of her hand, she let a dollop of the white goo slide from the bowl, hitting the pan with a sizzle as it grew to a perfect saucer-sized circle.  
Setting the bowl down, she took up the spatula and waited….she could feel Nora's eyes burning into her back, and patiently began to slide the metal tool underneath the circle of batter.  
The room seemed to freeze for a moment, as though a duel to the death was taking place, and Pyrrha could actually feel sweat beading on her forehead.

Then, with a sweeping, snap-movement of her hand, Pyrrha deftly flipped the pancake, depositing it dough-side down as a perfectly browned surface took its place. The room filled with a loud gasp-  
"Where is that coming from?" Ren Demanded-  
before, slowly, letting it brown for the crucial seconds, Pyrrha slid the spatula beneath the sizzling hotcake and, gently, lifted it from the pan, sliding it onto a plate.  
Nora stepped forward. Despite the silliness of it all, Pyrrha was surprised to find she actually felt Nervous.  
Her teammate looked firmly at her handiwork, before producing a fork and, using it to slice off a piece of the cake, popped it into her mouth. She chewed thoroughly, thoughtfully, letting the mass slide from side-to-side behind her lips. Jaune and Pyrrha both looked at her expectantly, Pyrrha clutching the spatula with both hands.

Finally, Nora swallowed. The room was silent and still, ad the shadows were, for a moment, completely black and white. Nora's eyes were closed, and she seemed to be in deep thought.  
Then she smiled, and opened her eyes, locking them directly onto Pyrrha's. the taller girl started despite herself.

"Perfect."

A few minutes later, the team happily munched, as Nora emptied the last of her syrup supply over her stack. The rest of the batter, officially dubbed "Pyrrha's Pancakes" had come out of the pan as perfect as the first one, and Pyrrha felt a sense of swelling pride: she indulged in the feeling, something so simple bringing her such joy, to say nothing of her friends.  
"Let's hear it for the new Pancake Flip Champion, the one and only Pyrrha Nikos!" Nora said, making the sound of a roaring crowd with her mouth as Jaune clapped and Ren gave a half-hearted "whoo." Pyrrha put a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh lest she choke.  
"We must preserve the moment, for posterity!" Nora went on as she drew her scroll and activated the camera function. Turning it to face her team, she snapped photos as the others tried to get into a more dignified position.  
"Oh goodness, I've got syrup all over my face!" Pyrrha said with a laugh as she tried to wipe her mouth clean, "Come on, take one where it looks like we actually prepared!"

"Why would I do that?" Nora replied " it's photos like that that build the most memories! Besides, I can think of nothing better for the yearbook…."  
Pyrrha was quickly devolving into helpless laughter, which had already drawn Jaune into a chuckle fit of his own. Even Ren smiled his near-imperceptible smile, which drew delighted cheering from Nora.  
For a beautiful moment, all of team JNPR reveled in the lighthearted laughter, as the sheer silliness of the situation drowned out the disappointment of the previous news.

And then it was lost, as Ren, Nora and Jaune's scrolls all beeped with an incoming message. Pulling out his own, Jaune looked at the screen as the last of his chuckles subsided. His face quickly fell.  
"Our transport will be here in an hour." He said to Nora and Ren. All of his teammates fell silent.

The moment was gone.

[=]

Hastily cleaning up the pancake-ing materials, Jaune, Ren and Nora quickly reassembled their bags and got properly dressed. Pyrrha stood there, silent, letting them talk over some last-minute details.  
"Okay, you're sure you brought the manuals?" Jaune asked, looking to Nora.  
"Of course I did!" she said "What good is training going to do us if we forget the basics?"  
"Just double checking" Jaune replied, before his eyes fell on Pyrrha. She stood awkwardly at her bedside, seemingly unsure exactly what to do.  
"You…gonna come down to the landing pads with us?" Jaune asked, feeling some of his old Awkwardness returning as he looked at her…her under-armor clothes left little to the imagination, and he fought down a blush. She looked at him, her expression hurt.  
"Of course I am! Did you think I was going to sit up here and mope?" she replied. She then looked down at herself, and a fresh blush came to her own cheeks as she looked over her skin-hugging attire.  
"Just…let me get dressed first, okay? I'll meet you guys down there." She continued, as she reached for her travel bag.  
"Sure thing" Jaune replied, eager to leave his stupid question behind: of COURSE Pyrrha was going to see them off, why wouldn't she?

Grabbing his own duffel bag, he and his companions left the dorm room and descended the stairs out onto the main concourse leading to the landing pad. They were only three among many students leaving for home: other first years, second, third and fourth years, all lined up awaiting their respective transports. Jaune waved a sheepish wave at team CVFY, who, save for Velvet, shot him piercing looks as they passed one another. The Faunus herself managed a sad smile and a wave.

Arriving at their designated landing pad, team JNPR, minus the P, set their bags down, sitting on the low wall that ringed the area. Around them, Bullheads landed and took flight, picking up students, as sky buses delivered yet more to the city of Vale below, where further transports awaited them. Below them, at the terminus of the pathway that meandered down the cliff face, ferries took yet more students away.  
"Phew!" Jaune said, sliding off his armor and Hoodie as the sun beat down "a scorcher today, no mistake."  
"You're telling me" Ren said, fanning himself with his hand as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Nora smiled at her companions.

"You guys should try skirts! They're light and airy, perfect for this kinda weather!" she said, leaning back and kicking her legs into the air. Ren and Jaune looked at one another.  
"Thanks, but…I think once was enough for me" Jaune replied.  
"Suit yourself!" Nora said, as she crossed her legs and sidled up next to Ren. Both were hoping they'd still be able to make the most out of this summer, even if Pyrrha's absence was a downer.

from the direction of the dorms, they suddenly heard something of a ruckus, and some cheers echoed over the distance as a figure appeared, walking towards the three. Behind it, Coco regarded the figure with an approving air, as she slid her sunglasses down her nose for a better look. Velvet clapped approvingly, and even Yatsu and Fox seemed impressed.  
team JNR looked up from their position, Jaune standing in surprise at the sight that approached the trio, it's heels clicking on the concrete, a small travel bag slung over its shoulder.

Instead of her armor, Pyrrha wore a tight red turtleneck and skinny blue jeans, completed with her familiar brown high-heeled boots and her ever-present bronze headband. Jaune cocked an eyebrow at her change in attire: if not her uniform, her armor was typically Pyrrha's first choice for dress.

"It's not exactly the most comfortable thing to travel in…and Mistral weather reports indicate a cold front." Pyrrha said when he mentioned it to her. Jaune looked her over again, and couldn't hide a slight redness in his cheeks. While it was by no means as revealing as her under-armor, it was…fetching, all the same. The shirt was a few shades darker than her hair, and the jeans clung to her athletic legs all the way down where they disappeared into her boots.  
"It looks…nice." Jaune smiled, causing Pyrrha to blush. Nora seemed to be looking at the pair expectantly, and even Ren kept an eye on the two.

Their thoughts were cut off however, as a Bullhead landed on the pad at the same moment their Scrolls beeped. Looking up, the number on the craft's side matched the one in the text he had received, and Jaune sighed.  
"That's my ride." He said, turning back to Pyrrha, who seemed to be trying not to tear up. She hastily wiped at her eyes, trying not to let her growing despair show. She'd been having so much fun, and now…  
Behind them, Nora and Ren stood and stepped over to the pair.  
"We'll see you in the Autumn" Ren said, placing a hand on Pyrrha's shoulder while Nora wrapped her in a tight hug. The tall redhead returned it with a smile.  
"See you then" she managed to say, before turning her attention back to Jaune.

Picking up their bags and walked towards the transport, Nora grabbing Jaune's bag for him, she and Ren cast a look back at the pair as they climbed aboard their ship.

Pyrrha played with her hands, trying to think of what to say.  
"Well...good by-" she began, but Jaune shook his head. She looked at him in surprise.  
"Don't say that…it implies permanence." He said, smiling supportively  
"Say "see you later."

Pyrrha couldn't help but smile at that, and she nodded.  
"See you later." She repeated, before looking down at her hands, unsure of what to say next. She bit her lower lip, trying to think of something meaningful, but no words would come. A rustling sound caught her attention.  
She looked up, only to see Jaune holding out his familiar Hoodie towards her. His white T-shirt flapped against his torso as the breeze caught it, briefly highlighting developing muscles.  
"Here" he said "If there's a cold front coming in, you might need it."  
Pyrrha stared at the familiar garment, her eyes going between it and Jaune as she reached out and took it. the familiar sensation of the material seemed to…dull the sadness that had been growing in her chest: she was genuinely touched.  
"I'll be wanting it back" Jaune said with a smile, which Pyrrha decided to interpret as him assuring they would meet again. She smiled at him, while Nora's words came back to her mind.

 _Just let it come naturally…._ _  
_ _Naturally…_

she took a deep breath and tried to speak.  
"Jaune, I-"

Pyrrha was cut off, gasping in surprise as Jaune suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. She felt his thin but tight muscles through the material of his shirt, the smell of his cheap body spray…his hayseed hair…

"If you ever need to talk" he said into her ear "You've got my Scroll number."  
Pyrrha, too stunned by the suddenness of the act to do anything more than nod, managed to feebly return the hug, her face a portrait of shock as the scent of Jaune's hair filled her nostrils and she felt his breath on her neck. He finally released her, and for some reason she had to fight back the urge to reach out and pull him back into the embrace. Jaune reached into his pocket, pulling out a slightly rumpled piece of paper.

"And…if you manage to get away…." Jaune said, handing the paper to Pyrrha "We'll be here all summer."

Pyrrha looked down at the paper as it unfolded in her hand. On it were a street address and a series of hastily scribbled coordinates, along with the words "My Place" in Jaune's handwriting.  
Pyrrha looked back up at Jaune, her expression surprised, but he was already gone.

She couldn't help but smile as she saw him scrambling after his transport, which was already taking off, as Nora and Ren leaned out the door, frantically waving. As Jaune leapt for the door, she subtly raised a hand, latching her semblance onto his belt buckles and lifting him the last crucial inches to Ren's outstretched grip. For a moment, she held him up, out of fear of him pulling Ren out of the vessel, but Nora reached out and dragged the pair inside, waving vigorously at Pyrrha as the two boys caught their breath.

As the transport began to accelerate away, Jaune looked up and met her eyes. Her jade green orbs locked onto his sky blue ones, and for a moment time seemed to stop. Across the distance separating them, everything seemed to vanish. The wind caught her ponytail, blowing it to one side and catching the sunlight. Her headband shone in the bright light of the early summer sun, and her eyes sparkled like emeralds.

Her hand still outstretched towards him, the other with the note held to her chest, Jaune saw her mouth move, but whatever she said was drowned in the roar of the Bullhead's jets. In the next moment, the vessel's doors closed and it raced away, quickly leaving the redhead far behind. Jaune watched her until she became a speck on the background of the massive academy, and even then he kept his eyes on that spot long after they were out of sight of the school.  
"Weird." Ren said, as he and Nora each took a seat in one of the vessel's fold-away chairs, their bags secured below them.

"What?" Jaune said as he stood up from the floor, finding a seat himself. His heartbeat was racing, and he put a hand on his head at the sudden light-headedness as he tried to calm himself down. That wasn't just from the run, that was….  
Ren continued speaking as Jaune oriented himself in his chair.  
"I've become rather adept at lip-reading in my life, Jaune. I saw Pyrrha just then, and…it's weird."  
"weird how?"  
Ren looked directly at Jaune, his face more serious than normal, even for him. When he finally spoke, it sent chills down all three of the student's spines.

"I could have sworn she said "help me."


	5. Chapter 4: Homecoming Blues

_Mistral, the next day._

Pyrrha had startled herself when she'd said "help me" in a sudden desperation to not be left behind, and had been unable to…quantify, the weight that had built in her chest ever since Jaune's transport had disappeared…or ever since he had released her from the sudden hug. Several hours of waiting for her own transport had given it time to swell and become unable to be ignored. She'd managed to politely acknowledge goodbyes and farewells from other schoolmates, but each one had seemed more…distant, more easily forgotten. She'd only barely reacted to the collective surprise of the other students as General Ironwood's ship had rumbled overhead, northbound on an apparent mission.

It had carried on all throughout her flight from Vale to Mistral, a building pressure of…not pain, per say, at least not physical pain, but more…..like a hole, in her heart. She'd found herself unconsciously pressing a hand to her chest repeatedly throughout the trip, and had only barely reacted to people who recognized her, managing to scrawl a few autographs and force a few smiles for youths who came running up to her famous personage. She thought the mere smell of Pumpkin Pete's would make her vomit at this point.  
She was feeling exhausted, having been unable to so much as doze on the flight…between missing her friends and…going home, she found relaxation hard to come by.

Which felt wrong to her: she was by no means ungrateful for the opportunities she had received. Her fame was due to her own abilities after all, and it had at the very least allowed her to pursue her dream of becoming a Huntress. Especially compared to Jaune, who had not had so much as a single day of training at a combat school, she knew her situation could be a lot worse: at least her fame was based on substance, not just a painted image.

But then again…it had also isolated her as well… Fame based on a false image would be bad enough, but fame based on her impressive abilities had only made her isolation worse, her "unreachable" status driving people away from trying to know her on a personal level. Indeed, it hadn't been until she'd met Jaune that she'd actually managed to hold conversations with people outside her family that weren't related to her training or her marketing. There had been times-fleeting moments, but still-where she'd even considered not using her trick of using her semblance to deflect opponent's weapons, just letting them hit her, so everyone could see she wasn't untouchable.

Those moments passed quickly. They always did. Maybe it was her pride, or maybe her selfless nature not wanting to insult anyone's abilities, but she'd never given in to the nagging temptation to just…throw a fight, or even not give her all.

As the airliner landed and taxied to the gate, she stood and exited with the other passengers, her mind elsewhere…wondering what her friends were doing at the moment.  
She briefly thought of Team RWBY: the innocent cuteness of Ruby, a prodigy in her own right (she was only 15, and already at Beacon!) the coolness of Weiss, who had become a closer friend despite her initial interest in Pyrrha being based on her fame, the mysterious Blake, who Pyrrha regarded as an excellent sparring and study partner (and who trusted Pyrrha enough to let her know she was a Faunus, one of her closest secrets) and the open hearted Yang, who was always ready, like Pyrrha herself, to put the needs of others before her own.  
She thought of Team CFVY, who she had hastily made some amends with as she'd departed the school (Coco laughed the issue with the milk off, even as Velvet tended to thorn bush scratches all over Yatsu's arms…) and the enigmatic Sun and flirtatious Neptune of Haven academy.  
The warmth thinking of her newfound friends brought to her quickly faded, however, as she realized just how far away they all were…

She also found herself reacting uncharacteristically to sounds that sparked familiarity in her ears….the sound of a girl's hyperactive laughing spun her around at the terminal, her face lighting up in joy at the thought of Nora's presence...but there was nothing.  
Just the milling crowds of endless faces. Strangers…

She was genuinely surprised by the feeling of sudden tears. The unwelcome and all-too-familiar sensation of isolation began to creep back to the forefront of Pyrrha's perceptions….she just couldn't recall it…hurting, this much, as she wiped at her eyes.

Or maybe she'd just never noticed how much it hurt before…

[=]

The weather reports hadn't been kidding: Pyrrha shivered as a fierce wind tore through her as she left the arrival terminal and walked through the open-air concourse of the airport. To either side of her, she saw people pulling coats tighter around themselves…or couples cuddling closer to one another…  
She couldn't help but let her eyes linger on a particular pair, a redheaded girl and a blonde male, who snuggled closer to one another as they sat in a café, giggling at each other's company as the girl fed her companion pastries. Pyrrha shivered again, hugging herself, feeling a strange, unfamiliar torrent of emotions surging through her. She usually had better control than this…she had to, for her parent's sake…

Suddenly, she remembered.

Pausing and opening her travel bag, she carefully withdrew Jaune's Hoodie, sliding the black and orange garment over her head and adjusting it to fit her frame: while the torso portion covered her perfectly, the sleeves were a tad too long and drooped over her hands. Sliding her ponytail out from where it was trapped inside, she relished for a moment in how warm the sweater was, how soft…no wonder Jaune never took it off. For a moment, she smooshed the front of the hood portion of the sweater against her face, indulging in the warmth…and the smell of Jaune… her cheeks reddened as his face flashed across her mind's eye, his expression the moment before the door to the transport closed…..

 _Help me…_

Finally, realizing people were starting to stare at this teenager randomly standing in the middle of the airport, she composed herself and, picking up her bag, headed for the main doors, where cars and busses waited outside. She could see a familiar black shape looming at the sidewalk.

She was not surprised at all when she met not her parents, but the family chauffer, Rosa, waiting alongside the large limousine her family owned. The long black car could have easily held her entire team and still had room for teams RWBY and CFVY. Her larger bags, shipped ahead of her, were being loaded into the truck of the car by several airport stewards.  
The young Chauffer, much shorter than Pyrrha, her long pink hair tied back in a conservative ponytail, smiled amicably at the heiress to the Nikos name as she held the rear door open for her, nodding respectfully in welcome: Rosa had only become the family driver a few months before Pyrrha left for Beacon, and neither knew each other very well. Pyrrha nodded politely to her in return: Rosa was going to the trouble of picking her up, after all.  
As she slid into the expansive rear seating area, she stretched out her long legs, still absently pressing a hand to her chest without quite realizing it. She couldn't tell if it was the sweater making her constantly think of her team….or the longing that was filling her heart for their presence. Any euphoria at being home was fading quickly.

Of course, she'd rather have not been home at all-

Pyrrha slapped the unwelcome inner monologue from her mind-she didn't dare dwell on that line of thought- as up front, Rosa slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, which purred mutely and effortlessly to life. Shifting gears, she turned the car into outbound traffic, speeding away from the airport and towards the edge of the city. As they drove, a steady rain began to fall.

Lounging in the backseat, Pyrrha turned her head and looked out the window, watching the droplets of rain trail past her on the window as the car sped down the highway. Beyond the tear-like trails, the glittering towers of the city slowly began to give way to the forests and glens of the countryside. The rain cast a distant fog over the ground, and the buildings began to take on the appearance of headstones in a mist-enshrouded cemetery. The light was gray and depressing, which wasn't helping her mood.

Her thoughts drifted back to her distant teammates, whatever they were doing, and to the couple she had seen at the airport. The familiar tension of her feelings for Jaune and a longing for the companionship of her teammates filled her, and she felt the pressure of the unshed tears trying to force its way to the front of her eyes again.  
It had been the same before the dance…Jaune's obliviousness to her feelings… so typically him…

The trip was carried on in silence, Pyrrha never taking her eyes off the view through the window as the light began to fade, evening approaching. Rosa was too far away at the front of the car for them to carry on a conversation, even if they had known each other well enough to do so.  
Slowly, steadily, Pyrrha slid lower and lower in the seat, until she yelped in surprise as she slid out of it altogether and plopped unceremoniously onto the floor. She whipped her head around in confusion for a moment before she realized what had happened.  
Outside, the city had been left far behind, and the distant hills that protected the settled area from Grimm attacks were barely visible under a low hanging fog. Despite the indignity of her position, Pyrrha felt no real desire to return to her previous seat, and, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in the bunched-up sweater, she simply continued starting up at the sky from the floor….wondering at what her team would think of her doing something so silly…  
"Nora would probably laugh…" she murmured to herself, smiling at the thought, "Ren would look at me with some sort of confused look, and Jaune…"  
Her smile faded as the thought of her team leader came back to the front of her mind, his face as the transport accelerated away…the warmth she'd still felt even after he'd broken the hug…

"He'd probably plop right down next to me…" she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand, as frustration boiled in her…what point was there to crying? It wouldn't change anything.

She'd told herself that over and over throughout the years…every time she'd felt despair or loneliness about to overtake her, she'd simply told herself off for being a crybaby and gotten back to work. It had kept her going….even after she'd gone to Beacon and was still getting to know her friends.

So why wasn't it working now?

Pulling the hood of the sweater up, Pyrrha sat there, surrounded by Jaune's scent, staring out the window, long after anything worth seeing had been obscured by the rain and the darkness. Each flash of the streetlights shone off her eyes as the car sped past, the rain on the windows creating a kaleidoscope effect for a moment...seeming to create a picture of her team in her mind… their smiling faces beckoning, calling out to her…

 _Help me…_

 _[=]_

The car finally left the highway, pulling onto a long, well-maintained road dotted regularly with streetlights. Decorative shrubbery and artistic fences cordoned off properties, here and there the fog clearing enough to reveal palatial mansions: the Upper-Crust regions of Mistral, only the rich and well-off lived around here. Pyrrha, despite having attended countless parties and banquets, as decorum demanded, found that she could barely remember any of the names of the house's owners.  
And she also found, strangely, that that didn't bother her at all.

Pulling through a large gate with the Nikos coat of arms over it, Pyrrha finally hauled herself up into the back seat, letting the hood fall from her head as the car approached the massive house. The gray light brought on by the rainfall gave the once-inviting house an almost mournful look as they proceeded up the long driveway.  
The Nikos estate had been in her family since before the Great War, and six generations of her ancestors had been born, grown up and died there. It was a massive building, with three separate sub-buildings connected by passages. The main house contained the family bedrooms, the living areas and the eating and kitchen areas, with a large porch off the back leading to a pathway down to the beach. Each sub-building served as both guest houses and servant's quarters, and a recently-added garage held the family's various vehicles, such as the car she now sat in. Behind the house, besides a swimming pool and the large gardens, a training area that she was more than acquainted with was ringed with polished marble and freshly-laid sand. As the car pulled up to the front of the house, Pyrrha stared up at the familiar visage, mottled by the rain and harshly lit with interior lamps.  
For some reason, it made her shiver.

Opening the door before Rosa could even get out of the car to do it for her, Pyrrha slowly walked through the rain to the house. Rosa noticed that the teenager had a hand pressed to her chest as though she were in pain. The thundering deluge obliterated long-distance sight, and only Rosa herself would ever know about the thin, smug smile that crossed her own lips.

[=]

Pyrrha stood just inside the doorway of the house, letting the rainwater that had drenched her drip onto the welcome mat at her feet. Even over the sound of the driving rain outside, the drops echoed in the vastness of the house, each one seeming to thunder in her ears. She could feel her wet clothes clinging to her, and idly wondered why she hadn't run to the doorway…for some reason it had seemed…appropriate, to let herself get rained upon.

She then looked down at the Hoodie, Jaune's Hoodie, and with a quiet gasp realized that it had gotten soaked in the short walk. An uncommon concern filled her as she hastily removed the garment, squeezing and wringing out as much excess water as she could and hanging it over a heater near the doorway.  
She straightened and smoothed it as much as possible, and even mouthed a "Sorry" as though Jaune could hear her.  
 _Jaune…Help me…_ _  
_  
Flicking out her hair to get some of the wetness off of it, the action managed to distract her from thoughts of her distant team as she slipped off her wet boots and stepped into the atrium of the house for the first time in months. It was coated in thick amber-colored wood, with battle standards and scarred shields decorating the walls: a legacy of warriors, Huntsmen and Huntresses going back years. Ahead were the sweeping stairways, one to each side of the room, which led up to the second floor. The high, vaulted ceiling, with its artfully decorated columns and the banisters around the second floor, gave the room the air of a palace. Overhead a chandelier gave the vast chamber a stark contrast of light and shadow. A massive window, at the moment streaked with rain, occupied most of the wall over the door, and at the moment served as a beacon for those approaching the house.

Despite the fact that she'd lived there all her life and had walked through it countless times, Pyrrha always found the atrium…intimidating, and skirted around it whenever she could. It always made her feel small.  
Her quiet footsteps sounded loudly in her ears as she walked deeper into the house in her stocking feet.  
It was strangely quiet, and she felt oddly….let down. She'd been expecting some kind of welcome…

"Pyrrha! Pyrrha, Darling, is that you?"  
Pyrrha spun to her left, where a figure that bore a striking resemblance to her appeared in the portal that led to the living room. A tall woman, dressed in a simple house robe over a long nightgown, with an unkempt mane of hair the same radiant scarlet as Pyrrha's, stared at the teenager in growing delight with eyes almost the same shade of green as the teenagers. If one did not know them they could be mistaken for sisters.

The first thought that came to Pyrrha's mind was _"Mom…you haven't been eating…."_ _  
_  
Kokkino Nikos, Pyrrha's mother, stared in awe at her daughter for a long moment, tears coming to her eyes as she suddenly dashed forward and wrapped her daughter in a hug.  
"Oh My baby, I missed you!" the older woman wept, a few dramatic tears of joy falling from her eyes as she smothered her daughter with kisses, while keeping up a barrage of maternal concerns.  
"Are you cold? Have you eaten? Good gracious, you're soaking wet! Go and get changed, you'll catch your death! Where's the raincoat I bought you, you need to-"  
Pyrrha smiled amicably at her mother as she continued her diatribe, consolingly patting her on the back as she returned the hug. Closing her eyes, she indulged in the familiar softness of her mother's robe, the scent of her hair. She had to be gentle…her mother was not who she used to be.  
"Mom…."  
Pyrrha couldn't help but feel how thin her mother had become as the older woman held her close: Kokkino had once been as muscular as Pyrrha herself now was, and an iconic Huntress in her own right. She'd lived by the healthy standards she expected Pyrrha to keep up to this day, even if she herself no longer had the strength to personally train with her. A severe mental breakdown along with a series of drug treatments, combined with stress ulcers and two heart attacks, had long since ended her career.  
 _  
 _"Daddy, what's wrong with Mama? Why won't she get up?"_  
 _"Your…your Mama's sick, Sweetie…yes…sick..."__

For a moment, Pyrrha absently recalled days, long ago, where a much younger version of herself would quietly tiptoe into her mother's bedroom, hearing muted, distant weeping…of her climbing onto the massive bed of her parents...reaching out for her once domineering mother, reduced to a sobbing heap, distant and barely responsive due to the drugs she'd been made to take to keep herself sane…she'd dropped weight and muscle mass like they were stones…had been put on a feeding tube for a while…and had cleaved to Pyrrha like she was the only thing keeping her alive…her weakened arms wrapping around the young girl's body, holding her close….

…Kokkino had more than fallen apart after Jaden….

Pyrrha forced the thoughts of her brother-and of those dark, frightening times- from her mind as another voice came to her ears.

"Dear, is that Pyrrha?"  
Pyrrha looked back up and smiled at her father, Zelan Nikos, who appeared from the same doorway, his golden hair tied back in a tight ponytail, a neatly-trimmed goatee on his chin. His own eyes, a deeper shade of green than his wife's, lit up in delight at the sight of his daughter.  
"Darling!" he cried, running forward and wrapping his own arms around the two women, planting a paternal kiss in Pyrrha's hair.  
Zelan Nikos had long-since retired from his career as an active Huntsman, spending his days teaching at Sanctum academy nearby. When not teaching the next generation of Huntsmen, he spent most of his time setting up advertisement work for Pyrrha…her breakout role as a Pumpkin Pete's mascot had only led to more…and more…  
"Oh darling, we missed you! It's been too quiet around here." He said as he squeezed the pair tightly, eliciting a gasp from his daughter.  
"Daddy, please!" she wheezed, but laughter was in her voice. Her father was always an academic: he'd been more a planner than a fighter, and tried to impart this mindset to his students, Pyrrha included. Well-placed investments and a few inheritances from family members had allowed him to keep the Nikos estate in the family, for which she could not fault him.  
Even if he did at times seem more concerned with Pyrrha's public image than Pyrrha herself…

 _"D-Daddy…?"_

"..."

 _"W-What do you mean, Jaden's not c-coming home?"_

As with her mother, Pyrrha couldn't help but recall that her once fun-loving father, always ready to play with her, practice with her, just talk with her, had buried himself in work after Jaden's disappearance…it had taken him almost a month to just work up the courage, the right words, to tell her Jaden wasn't coming home….he'd not even been able to hold her, to comfort her, as she'd broken down and cried…she'd reached out for him, only to see his own eyes wet with tears as he'd turned away…  
Confused, frightened, she'd fled….fled straight to…

Before her father could say more, or she could think any more, the subject of her train of thought appeared, heralded by a deep, booming voice suddenly echoing out of the living room.  
"Come now, you two, let the poor girl breathe before you smother her!"

"GUS!" Pyrrha said, her face lighting up in delight as the wizened figure of her Great Uncle Spartacus, or "Gus" to the family, stepped out of the living room, his cane tapping on the marble floor. Spartacus Nikos was, like his nephew and his niece-in-law, an ex Huntsman, and still traveled often: the shelves in Pyrrha's bedroom were well-stocked with souvenirs from his journeys. Pulling free of her parents, Pyrrha dashed across the atrium and enveloped her beloved great uncle, still with his vitality despite being well into his 80's, in a bone-crushing hug.

"Oooooh, I missed you!" she sighed, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, mixed with his pipe tobacco…a comforting scent, one that had remained unchanged since her childhood, when Gus would enthrall the Nikos children with tales of his adventures. While Pyrrha knew her parents cared for her well-being, it was Gus she most often turned to for help and advice….and the occasional candy he'd slip her from inside his sleeve. He was the sort to look the other way when Pyrrha snuck sweets into her regulated diet. Considering he was usually the provider of said sweets…

"Ah my little Firesprite" he said, as, releasing her, he placed a paternal kiss of his own on her head, "Your presence has been missed. It's been quite dull around here without you."  
"So I keep hearing" Pyrrha replied with a smile as her parents came up to the two, her father ruffling her hair in response to her comment. As her parents continued fussing over her, she briefly met Spartacus' eye, noticing a concerned look in them. Silently, she mouthed "later" towards him.  
Her Great uncle always seemed to be able to tell when she was forcing a smile onto her face.

Behind the four, Rosa, with help from some of the house staff, had finished bringing in Pyrrha's bags. Kokkino turned to them for a moment.  
"Bring those upstairs to Pyrrha's bedroom, and unpack her clothes, please." She instructed them coolly before turning back to her daughter.  
"Come, come, darling, you're just in time for dinner!" she said, her tone completely opposite that she used on her house staff. Placing an arm around her daughter's shoulder, she directed her out of the atrium, the two men following.

"Kokkino, maybe we should let her rest for a while, she's had a long journey…" Spartacus input, but Zelan waved him off.  
"After she's been gone for five months?" he said, wrapping his arm around Pyrrha's opposite shoulder, "I can't imagine she'd want to just sleep the rest of the day away without at least talking to us, eh, Pyrrha?"  
"Of course not…" Pyrrha said, before placing a mask of a bright smile on her face, "Besides, I'm famished! Airline food, need I say more?"  
Her parents laughed raucously, harder than the joke deserved. Spartacus let out a chuckle for decorum's sake, but Pyrrha could feel his eyes boring into her back. Taking a deep breath, she pressed down on the emotions that tried to boil forth. As always, she managed to keep them in check.  
As always, her parents were never the wiser of how much she wanted to just…flee. Flee unwelcome memories of her childhood…of innocence lost.

 _Memories of the young Pyrrha, walking into the kitchen a few days after her father had told her about Jaden, finding the house empty and silent…of Gus coming in, his hair unkempt, his eyes tired, to tell the girl her mother had had to be taken to the hospital… of herself running up the stairs to her parent's bedroom, only to find it ransacked, the furniture broken, sheets shredded…blood on the walls…_ _  
 _…Picture frames shattered, the glass lying like tear drops about crumpled pictures of her brother…__

The four Nikos' stepped into the house's expansive dining room, where a long table, surrounded by high-backed chairs and dressed with white linen and polished silverware, was lit and awaiting them.  
On the table was a delectable looking meal of swordfish, garnished and roasted, alongside a freshly-made salad. Pyrrha knew the vegetables came from the family garden: one of her mother's few remaining activities to occupy her time; she foisted as much attention on her plants as she did on her daughter.  
Kokkino had a simple chicken soup: easier on her stomach, after a severe ulcer had laid her low a few years before. Would that all her issues of the past few years were so easily dealt with…

Stepping to his traditional seat at the head of the table, Spartacus presented a bottle of vintage wine, and laid out wine glasses for himself, Pyrrha and Zelan as the latter two sat down: her mother had a simple glass of grape juice as she sat…wine was too much for her.  
To Pyrrha's eyes, her once strong mother had been wasting away ever since Jaden….

She shoved those thoughts -it seemed she couldn't escape Jaden's memory these days- violently from her mind as her Great Uncle spoke, taking his seat after pouring the red liquid into its respective glasses.  
"Well, I can think of no better way to celebrate the return of our beloved Pyrrha to this humble estate, freshly back from her first semester at Beacon Academy." He said his voice deep as he raised his wine glass towards his Great-Niece.  
" To you, my Little Firesprite: Cheers!"  
"Cheers!" her parents echoed as they raised their glasses in turn. Pyrrha put a smile on her face, as she'd had much practice doing, as she returned the salute and the four drank: the wine was cool, soothing on her tongue, and it flowed evenly down her throat and settled warmly in her stomach. Her father served the food, opening with the salad, letting the fresh-out-of-the-oven fish cool for a bit.

For several minutes, the four made idle chit-chat, sampling the food and simply enjoying each other's presence. Pyrrha nibbled at her salad, listening idly as her father spoke about his students, before he turned his attention to her.  
"So, tell us! How was your first semester? How's your team doing?" Zelan asked Pyrrha as he placed his wine glass down.  
Pyrrha took a bite of her salad before replying, managing to keep her expression calm as the memory of Jaune's face as the ship accelerated away reappeared in her mind. She swallowed hard, both on the food and on the feelings the memories filled her with.

"Things are…good, at school. I passed all my academic courses without any issues." She replied, an even tone to her voice as she spoke, "And my team is fine. We managed to make it into the Vytal festival, didn't I tell you?"  
"Of course!" Zelan replied "Your mother and I were very pleased when we heard. But, of course, we didn't expect anything less from you." He said the last with a proud smile on his face.  
"Mmhmm." Pyrrha murmured in reply, keeping her attention on her plate. Spartacus cocked an eyebrow at her reaction, but said nothing. Her father paused, swallowing a mouthful of his own salad before continuing.  
"I admit, your mother and I were surprised when you weren't made team leader. How does he do, what's his name….John?"  
"Jaune" Pyrrha corrected, the thought of her team leader bringing a sudden sense of longing to her heart as the strange empty feeling returned, "He's….doing well. He's not led us astray yet, certainly."  
"That's good to hear."  
"He's….actually quite a motivational person, dad. And he's…." she paused, a small smile coming to her lips, "He's kind of a dork, but….in a good way."  
"A good way?" Zelan repeated, an inquisitive expression coming to his face. He smiled down at his daughter, tut-tutting briefly. Even Spartacus' face brightened at the tone of conversation, which brought a blush to Pyrrha's cheeks.  
"We're just friends!" she insisted…even if a nagging voice deep in her mind asked her if that was all she wanted…  
"Of course" Zelan said, as he and Spartacus winked at each other. Pyrrha huffed in response, diving into her meal with gusto to avoid further discussion. None of them noticed a sudden angry expression that briefly crossed Kokkino's face at the inflection of her daughter's interest in her team leader…

Despite the embarrassing turn the conversation had taken, Pyrrha found herself beginning to relax…just a bit. So far, her parents hadn't demonstrated their usual nature…maybe her absence had made them realize…

Her father's face lit up as he remembered something.  
"Good news!" he said as he paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, "I've been talking to your Image consultants, they say they've got a good lineup for a new marketing campaign, you'll be-"

 _So much for that…_ _  
_  
Pyrrha's budding happiness promptly vanished under the guise of a conciliatory smile, as she duly nodded without really listening to her father's words. It was always the same: if she wasn't training, she was strutting and posing for advertisements, commercials, marketing her name to the high heavens above. She'd gotten so adept at playing whatever role the cameras required that she sometimes pondered if she should have taken up acting instead.  
Opposite the teenager, Kokkino huffed.  
"More marketing, Zelan? Didn't you hear Pyrrha, she's got the Vytal festival to prepare for, and she'll be far too busy training!" she said brusquely as she sent a disapproving look at her husband: one of the few areas her old fieriness shone through was in defense of her daughter.  
Zelan met her expression with a scowl of his own. Pyrrha looked up with concern as a familiar argument began to unfold in front of her… and her sense of longing for the laughter of the previous day began to tear down her emotional barriers.

"You know how important this is for her, dear, it's necessary-"  
"Necessary? You've got her advertising running shoes, sports gear, armor expositions, Dust accessories, sport deodorant, that disgusting cereal-raw sugar, all of it, UGH!-whatever next? Athletic supports? It's a wonder the girl has time to sleep anymore!"  
 _Jaune…_  
"Nothing so crude: it's actually an energy supplement-"  
"She has to focus on her training! The Vytal festival will do far more for her image than any picture of her slapped on a box of candy bars! Do you have any idea how much work she's going to need to prepare for this?"  
 _Help me…_  
"They're not candy bars, they're an energy supplement bar-"  
"So, candy bars with some extra rubbish tossed in. those things are a rip-off and you know it! The last thing Pyrrha needs her name associated with is another pretentious-"  
"Didn't you advertise something similar once, Koko?" Spartacus said as he patiently continued eating.  
The woman whirled on her uncle-in-law.  
"Don't you start! And my Daughter has better things to do if she's going to achieve her dreams! I fail to see how wasting time getting prepped and prodded before strutting around in front of a camera like a doll is going to improve her chances!"  
 _Help me…_  
"Oh, yes, because pushing her to dominate every contest she enters is so different, hm?" Spartacus shot back. A storm of rage crossed Kokkino's face, and Zelan started to become concerned.  
"Don't you start old man!"  
"Dear, please calm down, you're going to-"  
"Don't tell me to calm down, when you're the one who's wasting our daughter's precious time with these ridiculous-!"

"May I be excused?"

The argument stopped short, and all three sets of eyes turned to regard Pyrrha, who sat silently in her chair, hands pressed to her stomach. Her face had an expression of slight discomfort, but her exhaustion was plainly more visible.  
"Sorry…I think it's the wine…" The teenager went on, wincing for good measure, "And…I'm feeling a bit tired."

"Oh Sweetie!" Kokkino gasped, rising from her seat and dashing around the table to her daughter's side, her eyes wide with worry.  
"Are you nauseated? Do you have a fever?" she twittered as she placed a hand on her daughter's forehead, "Oh, I knew I should have made you get changed, you've probably-"  
"Mom, please!" Pyrrha said, feebly trying to wave her fretting mother off, "I think I'm just a bit unsettled…the flight and all…"  
"The flight? Oh good gracious, those accursed air pockets, I'd better call a doctor-"

"Koko…" Spartacus interjected before Kokkino could call down the entire Mistral central Hospital staff, "...I think she would do well to go upstairs and lie down."  
He turned to his great-niece, a sympathetic expression on his lined face.  
"By all means, dear. You go and get some rest. I'll come up in a bit and see how you're doing."  
"Thank you Gus" she said with a faint smile as, pulling free of her fretting mother's grasp, she walked slowly around the table and placed a quick kiss on his head, before she turned and left the room.

Her Parents watched her go, Zelan even starting to stand, but Spartacus cut into their line of thought before they could call her back.  
"Now, how about that Swordfish?"

[=]

"Little Firesprite?"  
Spartacus slowly knocked on the door to Pyrrha's bedroom, listening for any sound from within. The lights were dark, and a brief crash of distant thunder echoed in the dim house.

It had been several hours since Pyrrha had quietly left the dinner table. Spartacus knew without a moment's contemplation that her "stomachache" was a convenient excuse to flee her parent's incessant bickering. The old man scowled at the thought: Pyrrha hadn't even been home twenty minutes and they'd already begun treating her like she had never left.  
Kokkino had finally calmed down enough for the two men to consider it safe for her to take the sedative she needed to get through the night without screaming nightmares…the last time she'd forgotten was the night before Pyrrha left for Beacon.  
Some send off…the poor girl's mother screaming incoherently at the top of her lungs as Spartacus, Zelan and two of the house staff had held her down to administer a more potent tranquilizer.

After putting his wife to bed, Zelan had disappeared into his office to go over paperwork for Pyrrha's latest advertising campaign and to grade papers from his work at Signal.  
While both had knocked on Pyrrha's door to wish her goodnight, the teenager hadn't replied, letting the two believe she'd already fallen asleep. Spartacus wasn't so sure.

Still without a reply from the teenager, the old man sighed and, using the key Pyrrha had entrusted him with, unlocked the door, which swung open silently. The lights were out, and he could hear the consistent pattering of rain on the skylights overhead.

As his old eyes peered into the vast darkened room, he could make out the seeming piles of awards and accolades that lined the walls on shelves and hanging mounts: all tributes to Pyrrha's seeming invincibility, award after award, trophy after trophy, certificates and medals and statuettes, for every variety of sport and event, to say nothing of the four gold medals for her Sanctum Contest Championships set in velvet boxes on a high shelf near the door.

Only a keen-eyed observer would see that all these gold idols, all these icons of victory, were placed...haphazardly, almost without care...as though they were unimportant to the actual winner...

By comparison, a small shelf that, he noticed, was in direct line of sight to the large bed at the far end of the room was carefully and tastefully decorated with a variety of knick-knacks, trinkets and stones and seashells from the four corners of the world, along with a small clay figurine of a young redhead boy wearing a white jacket. He paused at the sight: he's brought many of those items home for Pyrrha from his travels. A rainbow-colored stone from the Vacuo deserts, a small wooden spirit totem from Vale, a toy soldier in the uniform of Mantle, a tiny rag doll of a Faunus girl with rabbit ears…

Letting his eyes travel deeper into the vast room, past dressers, a work desk and a stylized vanity-unused, as far as he knew-  
His eyes finally came to the massive four-post canopy bed of his great niece: she had adamantly refused when her parents had tried to replace the frame with something more "adult."  
At the foot of the bed was a small hope chest, one that only Pyrrha herself had a key for: Spartacus had had it made it that way as a twelfth birthday present, lest someone untoward pry into her deep affairs. Just beyond the bed, translucent silken curtains dangling from its upper portion, the large sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony at the peak of the house were just visible in the darkness, streaked with rain.

A near-silent sound came to his ears, and he turned his full attention back to the bed, where, as his eyes adjusted, he could begin to make out a shape stirring ever-so-slightly.

His eyebrows drooped with sadness as he recognized Pyrrha laying there, her head buried in a pillow, shoulders trembling. In the silence of the house, with only the muted patter of the rain, he could now tell the sound was...

...sobbing...

"Pyrrha…." He said quietly, slowly stepping across the threshold and moving over to the bed. Sensing movement, the teenager looked up with a gasp, her green eyes wide and her cheeks wet with tears.

For a moment, Spartacus went back to that dreadful day, when little Pyrrha had come running into his study, sobbing terribly and burying herself in his embrace…

The redhead wiped at her eyes and sniffled as she looked up at her great uncle, clutching the pillow to her chest: Spartacus could see that it was well-soaked with her despair.

"I'm…I'm sorry, I-" she began to stammer, before her uncle reached out and silenced her with a finger to her lips and a gentle shushing.  
"Shhh...you have nothing to apologize for, Little Firesprite." He whispered, his eyes sympathetic as he sat down beside her on the edge of the mattress.  
Pyrrha stared at him for a long, agonizing second, before her eyes pinched and she buried her face back in the pillow.  
For a long minute, he simply placed a consoling hand on her shoulder as her hiccupping sobs continued. He'd been expecting her to finally crack under the strain for several years now…though he would never voice it, he felt nothing but respect for how long she'd held these feelings in.

Respect…and regret…

"I know you wanted to go with your friends, dear child." He sighed. Pyrrha shifted underneath his hand, and a few more choking sobs were heard.  
"I argued with them about it." he went on, placing a gentle hand on Pyrrha's hair and stroking it comfortingly "but they were resolute. Your mother was at her wits end worrying about you, especially after she saw you fighting in the news footage of the Grimm attack on Vale, and your father, he's always afraid of upsetting her-"

"It's because of Jaden."

Pyrrha felt her great uncle's hand jerk at the mention of her brother's name. For a moment, his eyes went across the hallway, where the door to her brother's bedroom had remained locked ever since he'd disappeared.  
His expression slowly turned to one of sadness, and he turned his face to the floor as he closed his eyes.

"So, you finally asked Ozpin about him, hmm?"

Pyrrha nodded, releasing the pillow with a sigh and sitting up, swinging her legs off the bed so she was sitting beside her wizened great uncle. She fiddled with her hands, using one to wipe at her puffy eyes, as he slid an arm around her shoulder, and allowed him to pull her into his side. He suddenly looked like the weight of his 85 years had all come crashing onto his shoulders.

Spartacus had in many ways been both parent and grandparent to Pyrrha, especially in the aftermath of Jaden's death. Her mother's nervous breakdown and subsequent medical emergencies had only added to the family's woes, and her father had devoted much of his time to tending to his ill wife. While neither had been outright neglectful of her (her mother's incessant fretting was proof enough) they had always felt…distant. Spartacus continued speaking, sadness in his voice.

"We all miss him, Pyrrha. It tore your mother apart when he…disappeared. She was always a strong woman, and to have something she had no control over tear her life up so badly…I think it unhinged her, somewhat."  
Pyrrha could only nod at his words, as she sniffled. Reaching into the front pocket of his shirt, Spartacus extracted a handkerchief and handed it to her. She stared at it for a moment, a fresh hiccup escaping her throat before she took it and wiped at her eyes.

"I know they push you, too hard sometimes…" he said, before pausing for a moment, letting his eyes go back many years, "And I know it's difficult, dealing with…all this" he went on, waving his arm to indicate her parents in the bedroom/office down the hall.  
"They just wanted to make sure you were never caught in a situation like that…" he continued, "When they saw what happened to him…to his teammates, his friends…I think they're still coming to terms with all of it."

Pyrrha silently observed her great uncle, save for a few sniffles. The old man had been the only one willing, indeed, ABLE, to comfort her in the aftermath of Jaden's apparent death. While her mother had begun her slow downward spiral and her father had tried to bury his grief in his work, Spartacus had doted upon the girl, doing everything he could to make her smile. It had been hard work, tiring work, and Pyrrha knew the strain had worn him out, despite appearances.

"I've been…thinking about Jaden a lot, lately." She said. She looked away from her Great uncle.  
"Last week was the anniversary of his last transmission."

Spartacus stared at his Great Niece in surprise: he'd long since stopped keeping track of the date Jaden had made his last call. Pyrrha continued speaking.  
"I always kept the hope in the back of my mind…somehow, somewhere; he'd still be out there….fighting off evil, saving the world. And then, one day, he'd come strolling up the driveway, not a care in the world, and everything would be okay again."  
She laughed a sad laugh at the last sentence, even as she dabbed at her eyes with the hankie.  
"Naïve of me, I know…but…I guess I just never wanted to give up hope."

For a long, silent minute, Gus looked hard at her, biting his lower lip, as though he were contemplating telling her something important. Pyrrha spoke before he could.  
"Professor Ozpin told me something, when I asked him about Jaden." Pyrrha said, holding the hankie to her chest. Spartacus waited for her to speak, a silent relief at having some burden pushed away barely perceptible on his face.  
"No matter how well trained you are, how prepared you are, how skilled, there will always be something that can undo you."  
Spartacus' eyes widened at the words, and he looked at the floor, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Pyrrha knew he had been just as shaken by what happened to Jaden as her parents had been: he was simply doing a better job dealing with it.

"He's right, you know." Spartacus said at last, turning and placing a paternal kiss in her hair. Reaching around the old man, Pyrrha hugged him tightly, finally managing to find comfort in his embrace.  
If nothing else, it was worth coming home to see him…to feel that old comfort again. For a few long moments, the two simply sat, remembering and, as they'd always done, comforting each other, trying to make sense of uprooted lives.  
Spartacus finally spoke as he patted Pyrrha affectionately on the back, as an idea came to him.  
"I've got something for you." He said. Standing up, he stepped briskly out of the room. Pyrrha heard the sound of a door opening: his study down the hall.  
For several long moments, Pyrrha heard the muted sound of him rummaging in his desk, before a quiet "aha!" came to her ears. In a few moments more, Spartacus stepped back into her room, holding something in his hand.

"Your parents don't know I kept this." He said as he came and sat down beside her, "They tried to find all the photos, to put them away…I had to hide this for a while."  
Pyrrha looked down at what she could now see was a picture frame, and her eyes widened.

In the photo, Jaden stood, proud and resolute, a smirk on his face, with an arm around the shoulder of a ten-year-old version of herself that was grinning brightly at the camera. She was rocking back on her heels, hands behind her back, the picture of cute innocence. The younger Pyrrha was wearing an outfit not dissimilar from her present-day armor: a special training garment Jaden had helped her make.

Jaden himself was dressed in his favorite Mistralian Skirmisher Greatcoat, a camouflage-mesh garment that could flip between a decorative dress white and a muddy camo pattern at command. She could see the holster straps for his dual-wield tomahawk handguns, which he had named "Bowie White" for reasons she never figured out, crossing his torso in the open gap between the two halves of the coat. Slung over his back was his beloved Mistralian Skirmisher rifle, an antique Dust weapon he'd lovingly restored.  
His Red hair was pulled back in a ponytail not unlike the one her father wore now.

"This was taken-" Spartacus began, but Pyrrha cut him off, her voice almost whisper quiet.  
"The day…the day he left for Beacon, for his last semester." She said, awe in her tone as the memory came back. She smiled brightly at the image as the fond memory came back to her.

 _"Cheese!"_  
 _Zelan froze stock-still for a moment as the camera snapped once, twice, three times. His smile was broad as he lowered the lens._  
 _"Alright, that should do it!"_  
 _Pyrrha unclasped her hands from behind her back, wrapping them around Jaden's leg as she looked up at him, her huge green eyes full of energy._  
 _"You're gonna be a real huntsman after you get home!" she gushed, hugging him tightly. He placed an affectionate hand on her head, smiling down at her._  
 _"And, by the time i get home, if your training and tests are anything to go by, you're going to be on your way to becoming one too." he said, pride in his voice as he ruffled her hair. She giggled, playfully slapping his hands away. Jaden gave a friendly tug on her ponytail before she could run off, and crouched down before her, a hand on her shoulder._  
 _"Now you be good for Mom and Dad, okay Little Firesprite?"_  
 _Pyrrha "mm-hmm'd" and nodded, clasping her hands behind her and toeing the dirt with one of her feet._  
 _Then, her smile faded as she looked away. Jaden's expression clouded in concern._  
 _"What's wrong, Pyrrha?" he asked, clasping just a touch tighter on her shoulder._  
 _Her little face, framed by her hair, looked up at him, and he was surprised to see a slight wetness to her eyes._

 _Then, she suddenly sprang up and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder._  
 _"I'm gonna miss you!" she whimpered into his jacket collar, her voice muted...but a slight hitch still there. Jaden smiled sympathetically as he stood, wrapping his resolute arms around her, the wide sleeves of his coat crumpling slightly around her nine-year-old body._  
 _"Ah, c'mon, Little Firesprite, I've gone away before! And I've always come back, haven't I?"_  
 _Pyrrha nodded into his shoulder, but didn't move from her place. Jaden patted her back soothingly._

 _"Hey Chief! Our Ride's here!"_

 _Jaden's smile faded slightly as he turned towards a trio of figures near the end of the driveway, one of whom was waving at him as, the sound of its jets echoing over the distance, a Bullhead could be seen on the horizon._

 _Pyrrha pulled away from his shoulder to look up herself, releasing her brother's neck and wiping at her eyes. Jaden turned his head back to face her, a consoling smile on his face._  
 _"Looks like it's time for me to head out, Little Firesprite." he said as he crouched to let her back down to the ground-quite a trip, considering how tall he was-and hugged her one last time before he stood._  
 _"I'll call you as soon as I get to Beacon, okay?" he said as he let his hands trail off her shoulders. Pyrrha sniffled, but nodded._  
 _Smiling as wide as he could force, Jaden bent down and kissed his little sister on the forehead._  
 _"I gotta go, Pyrrha." he said quietly, "But I'll be back soon, and then we'll have all summer to practice and hang out before I start going on Huntsman missions."_  
 _"Okay..." the redheaded girl said quietly, as she wiped at her eyes and looked away for a moment._

 _Squeezing his sister's shoulder, Jaden stood as his parents, who had been letting the two say their goodbyes, came up to the pair._  
 _"Come on, sweetie" Kokkino said after she'd hugged her son one last time, "Jaden's got to leave now, and we've got some training to do!"_  
 _Turning Pyrrha away as Zelan enveloped their son in a bone-crushing hug of his own and Spartacus shook his great-nephew's hand, the young girl nodded at her mother, and did her best to hold back the sadness that always came whenever Jaden went away._  
 _She didn't notice a thoughtful expression come to her older brother's face as he watched her retreating back._

 _"Hey, Pyrrha?" he called, the sound filling the young girl's ears._ _  
_  
 _"Huh?" Pyrrha replied as she turned back towards her brother._

 _Whirling away at the same moment Pyrrha spun back to face him, Jaden let out a triumphant "HAH!" as he held his jacket open, exposing the whole back side to his sister. As he did so, the bright white of the coat suddenly flickered and seemed to stain itself with smudges of dark color._  
 _"Ha HA!" he chortled, "Now you can't see me!"_

 _Pyrrha couldn't help but giggle, her hands hiding her mouth as she pretended to be unable to see her older brother...who would indeed be slightly more difficult to see if he hadn't turned towards the broad, BLUE expanse of the ocean with his now brown and green jacket..._

"I can't believe you kept this…"

Spartacus sighed nostalgically at the picture as Pyrrha smiled weakly at the memories.  
'I always wanted to keep something, to remind me of him." he said, sliding an arm around Pyrrha's shoulder as they both looked into the photo. He held it towards her, shaking it slightly.

"It's for you, dear." He said, handing it to her, "Your parents may want, may need, to leave him behind…but you don't."

Pyrrha took the frame delicately into her hands, like the slightest jerk would shatter it to pieces. She stared into the photo, her face awed, as Spartacus's smile of affection fell on her.

"He loved you, Pyrrha. He absolutely adored you from the moment he met you, and was always telling me how he was going to protect the world, so you could live whatever life you chose without any fears…"

"-And now I'm going to follow in his footsteps" Pyrrha said, her voice suddenly resolute and certain, her sadness sliding away, "So I can do the same for everyone else...so I can protect the world."

Spartacus's smile never wavered, and he placed another supportive kiss in his great-niece's hair as he spoke again.  
"I can't think anything would make him more proud. And no one was more proud of you than he was."  
Pyrrha smiled, closing her eyes as she held the photo to her chest. Spartacus let a silent sigh escape his lips.

"Get some rest, dear." The old man said as he patted her back, "You've got new trials ahead of you."  
Pyrrha nodded as he released her, before an expression of tired frustration came to her face, as she gripped the picture frame tighter.

"I'll talk to mom in the morning…" Pyrrha said with a sigh, "I expect she'll want me to start training…I'll need to keep my skills up."  
Spartacus scoffed.  
Pyrrha looked at him in surprise as he spoke, a wistful smile on his face.

"What you need, dear, is a vacation. I'll talk to your parents; make sure they give you at least a week to just unwind, er, "recover."

Pyrrha looked up at her uncle as he stood: while he himself knew the value of staying in peak condition, he knew that you could burn yourself out just when you need your strength the most if you pushed yourself too hard. He had always tried to allow Pyrrha to look beyond the training regimens her parents had always kept up. He looked down at her, a conciliatory expression on his lined face.  
"You need it."

For a moment, Pyrrha was a wide-eyed little girl again, looking up at the resolute form of her great-uncle, the warrior and loving mentor, that feeling of unbridled support and compassion she'd known so well filling the hole in her heart.  
"Thank you Gus." Pyrrha said quietly, the first genuine smile she'd felt all day appearing on her face.

It faded, however, as she thought of the coming festival…and of her teammates.  
"I'm not sure what training is going to do for me, in any case. My team's halfway around the world…we'll need to practice hard when we get back to school just to pick up our coordination again…"

"Why don't you call them?" Gus said, cocking an eyebrow, "Let them know you arrived safely, wish them goodnight?"

"I don't know…" Pyrrha replied with uncertainty, looking down at the floor, letting the picture frame sit in her lap, "I think hearing them might just upset me more…"  
Spartacus sighed inwardly as he sat back down beside her: Pyrrha was clearly still trying to understand the concept of "friends."  
Particularly this "Jaune" she seemed so keen about…  
"Dear…I think it will do you some good." He said, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his smiling face, feeling his confidence resonate onto her.

 _Jaune did say to call him if she ever needed to talk…_ _  
_  
Finally she nodded, a smile growing as, setting the picture frame on her bedside table, she reached into her still-unpacked travel bag and withdrew her scroll. Opening it, she keyed in Jaune's number-Ren and Nora were with him-and waited. For a few long moments, the device burbled and chirped.  
Both Nikos' faces fell into confusion as, instead of the CCTS communications link, the Mistral emergency Bulletin suddenly appeared on her screen. That was never a good sign…  
The reporter was in the middle of a sentence, but the image behind her was stark enough, and both Nikos' gasped in shock.

"-what some authorities are calling a White Fang attack, but others are attributing the tower's sabotage to the recently-appeared "Requiem" organization, though this would be the groups first overt action against a non-military target. Luckily, the tower was evacuated with the use of a fire alarm before the explosives went off, so no casualties have been reported."  
"However, with the CCTS tower down, as you are all well aware, the CCTS network is thusly compromised, making cross-continental communications impossible. While temporary transmitters have been put in place, authorities have declared that they are to be used for essential services only, and apologize for inconvenience. The Vacuo high council has announced that those responsible for this attack will be brought to justice. For non-Mistral natives seeking to contact their homes, please seek out local law enforcement for points to relay-"  
Pyrrha was stunned as she looked at the news footage, the CCT tower in Vacuo trailing smoke and lying in ruins. Firefighters played water over some of the fiercer blazes, as sections of the walls that were still standing crumbled and fell…

But the first thought, the only thought, that filled her mind was far more personal.  
 _  
 _How am I going to call Jaune?__

[=]

(AN: I know some people are gonna come at me and say "why'd you make Pyrrha such a crybaby?"  
well, as we saw in Season three, and even before then, she's got her emotional limits. Sure, she's tough as nails and brave in battle, kicking butt and taking names, but she's still got a heart. The thought of losing Jaune and her friends in order to become the fall maiden drove her to tears and lashing out with her semblance when Jaune inadvertently said "give up your heart to gain your destiny."  
Sure she's got strength and skill, but that doesn't mean she's emotionless.)


	6. Chapter 5: Ghost Stories

_Command tent, Requiem camp, Northern Vale_

"Alright…." Commander Pyrrhos said as he sat behind his desk, fingers meshed before his face as he glared at the two people who stood at parade rest before him. He mimicked the pose Eisen Schnee had used on him, and why not? People tended to find his eyes, piercing jade green and ringed with lines and bags so thick one would think he was wearing a domino mask, to be his most intimidating feature. Best to exploit it.  
With the backdrop of a map of Remnant, red pins representing the various Requiem outposts around the world, a pile of dig reports and a few samples of the black crystal shards that the diggers had discovered sitting to his right, a code machine spitting out reports to his left, and a large tactical assault rifle leaning against the desk, it all highlighted in stark detail the level of responsibilities he had…and how angry he was at having to be pulled away from them.

"…I just want to know one thing…." He continued, his voice flat and calm as he addressed the pair. The taller of the two was a faunus male, blonde, with a pattern of Ocelot-like spots across his thin cheeks. A red beret was tucked under his arm as he stood at attention, and a pair of heavy revolver-hammers was holstered on his belt. The cat ears perched on his sand-blonde head twitched as he was addressed. The shorter of the two was a Human female, caramel-skinned with close-cropped Ice-blue-hair. Unlike the Faunus male, who was dressed in a black military-style uniform, the girl was casually dressed, a loose blouse and OD green cargo pants over a skin-tight bodysuit that covered her torso. Rough workers boots contrasted with the Faunus' polished and spurred jackboots. However, the tactical anti-material rifle/battleaxe she had slung across her back showed she was no civilian…  
Pyrrhos looked between the two, switching the fix of his gaze between first one, then the other. Each time his eyes fell on them they stiffened.  
finally, his face twisted in rage and his voice rose to an angered crescendo.

"Who in the HELL authorized the attack on the Vacuo CCT tower?"

Both figures that stood before him flinched, but managed to keep straight faces.  
"Major Argent Shanmao….Lieutenant Breen Sin….Care to explain?" Pyrrhos continued, his voice dropping back to a more reasonable level. He had summoned these two, the Commanders of the Vacuo division of Requiem, to his camp upon hearing about the attack on the tower…and what people were saying about his organization.

How he had contacted them when the CCT was down…that was his secret.

the Faunus, Shanmao, swallowed before speaking.  
"Sir" he began "It was I who ordered the operation."  
Pyrrhos regarded the man with a cocked eyebrow, and one could almost feel his estimation of his subordinate dropping like a deflating tire: as painful as a physical blow, considering the Faunus worshipped the ground his superior walked on…  
which would seem odd, to any outsiders: the Commander was only a few years older than his two subordinates. Indeed, he was younger than many people who took orders from him…  
"May I ask why?"  
"Sir." The major went on, managing to keep a straight face despite the pain of knowing his leader was disappointed in him "We learned via a link from Blizzard Wolf that a vital information package was going to be transferring from Atlas to Vale via the CCT hard-link conduits, and that there would be a window of opportunity to seize it while the connections were made around a storm front that cut off the direct line. Something to do with the ionosphere-"  
"Your POINT, Major?" Pyrrhos drew out quietly, his anger visible, his eyes flashing. Shanmao gulped and continued briskly. What he had to say next might save him or cost him his neck.

"S-sir, we had reason to believe the package contained information on the location of…Personality Number One, sir."

Pyrrhos, despite not moving, still seemed to freeze. His eyes slowly widened, and he carefully unmeshed his fingers and placed his hands on the armrests of his chair. For a moment, the two thought his hands were shaking, but their thoughts were interrupted as their leader spoke.  
"Major, if you are bullshitting me right now, I will personally feed you to the Grimm." He said, his voice almost a whisper. He stared directly into the Major's eyes.  
"What do you have?"  
Shanmao, hiding his relief, reached into a pouch on his belt and drew out an information storage drive, which glowed blue, showing it was almost full.  
"We had to pull the whole file package, sir…there wasn't time to go through and search." He said as he gently laid it on the Commander's desk. The gaunt man stared at it for a moment.  
Sin spoke up.  
"We ran it as a standard smash-and-grab, sir: there was no time for more subtle action. We had to take the tower down so they wouldn't trace what was stolen right away. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to pull together enough Fang gear-"  
"So you went in standard civilian clothes?" Pyrrhos cut her off. She winced, barely managing to keep her eyes respectfully forwards "You went in with half your team wearing White Fang gear, and the rest in plainclothes? HUMAN features fully visible?"  
"Sir, while we tried to put the nonFaunus in the white fang gear, we're aware that they still managed to link us to the attack-"  
For a brief, burning instant, the Commander's eyes flashed red, and black streaks of energy coursed up his pale face. Only for an instant.  
"The media are calling us TERRORISTS!" Pyrrhos roared, storming to his feet. Neither of the pair could resist taking a step back as he glared at them, his eyes full of rage. His whole body trembled with barely contained apoplexy.  
"We are trying to unleash the collective will of the people, Human, Faunus, Menageriean, Mistralian, Valian, Vacuean or Atlesian! I fail to see how making Requiem look like another band of rogues and terrorists is going to make the masses rally to us! Nor can I see how making the people think we're working WITH the White Fang is going to convince the Faunus population that we are not calling for bloody revolution!"

He sucked in a few deep breaths as he kept his piercing laser-harsh glare on the two.  
"Let me make this perfectly clear, since I have apparently failed to do so, despite how many times I've had to explain it: WE. DO NOT. ATTACK. CIVILIANS. PERIOD!" he roared, punctuating each word with a fist pounded into his desk. The items on it shook, a few pens and data pads toppling off the edge and onto the floor.

The pair shivered like children receiving a scolding.  
"Sir…" Sin replied, her voice barely above a whimper "We-DID-clear the building before the charges went off…"  
"Yes, yes" Pyrrhos growled as he sat back down "And that piece of double checking is one of the reasons I'm not having you two thrown in the brig."  
both were visibly relieved as he turned his attention to the data storage drive the pair had presented him. Gently picking it up in his hands, he turned it over, looking at it closely. It was an ordinary device, the kind one could purchase at any computer store. He scowled as he saw 'made in Atlas" embossed into the casing: while all his equipment was swept to make sure there were no backdoor tracking bugs or transmitters, he'd have preferred not to use Atlas equipment.

Despite his apparent external anger, inside a brief, hitherto almost unknown blossom of hope began to stir deep within his ragged heart. He might have finally found…her…

He finally turned his attention back to the pair that still stood before him. They were unmoving, a sense of dread mixing with anticipation prevalent on their faces.  
"Consider yourselves on probation until I have time to sift through this: if what you say is true, then I'll be willing to overlook this…this time."  
Both the Vacuo unit commanders sagged with relief.  
"HOWEVER." Pyrrhos went on, causing both to snap to attention.  
"If I do not find any such relevant information on this drive…"  
He held up his left hand, clad in a black glove, flexing his fingers. The leather of the glove creaked like the sound of a hangman's noose in the ears of the two Vacueans. They knew full well what that hand could do…  
" Need I say more? "  
Both throats bobbed as the pair swallowed. He was perfectly clear.  
"SIR!" they barked, their spines straining to hold them as straight as possible. Pyrrhos waved them away as he turned his attention back to the drive.  
"You are dismissed. Report to the watch commander, I want you two on patrol duties. I've already informed Captain Zanna to take command in Vacuo until you two are cleared to return."  
"Yes sir!" both echoed in unison, before spinning on their heels and marching from the tent. Despite the Vacuo division containing the largest population of Requiem members outside Vale, with Mistral being third and Atlas having, at most, Twenty members, Pyrrhos felt Zanna, a dark-skinned ex-huntress who'd been booted off the mission board roster after a failed rescue attempt of an Atlesian prince (her only real failure in a long career of success) was up to the task of command while those two were stationed here.

After they'd gone, Pyrrhos sat for several moments, staring at the data disk, pondering it's secrets.  
"To think…" he murmured to himself "That it would be so easy…."  
A moment of curiosity struck him…Blizzard Wolf was one of his best, most confidant agents. Why would they go to Shanmao and not him?  
 _Maybe they're having second thoughts…_

He shook his head, dismissing such concerns…if anyone was faithful to his cause…to him, it was Blizzard Wolf. It had been so ever since his desperate escape from the laboratory…

He stood, intending to seek out a technician he could trust to begin scanning the relevant information within the drive.

At least, that was his intention.

Instead, he slumped back into his chair with a sudden cry of pain, his hands flying to his chest as the drive thudded to the desktop. He clutched desperately, his eyes going blurry and unfocused as he tried to hold back the blackness that attempted to consume him. Blood surged forth around his lips as his heart raced at three times healthy speed, the beats becoming erratic. His head thudded with pain like someone was ringing it with a sledgehammer, and another burst of coughing kept air from entering his lungs. Blood and phlegm splattered his desk, some landing on the drive.

It was getting worse….when he had first been forced onto this path he had been able to go months without an attack, and they only happened when he was stressed…now they were happening almost daily, these horrific bursts of agony on top of his already omnipresent pain. He sucked in air in those few moments he felt his throat clear, ignoring the blood running from his lips as memory flashes thundered through his mind…

 _"If you push yourself too hard…you're going to end up being the one getting pushed…likely off a cliff."_

Memories of long-lost days of beauty and warmth... of loved ones at his side…

 _"You never told me you could dance!"_

 _"Do you think your parents will like me?"_

 _"HI, BIG BROTHER!"_

…memories of loss…of betrayal, of… death…

 _"You've (cough) you've always gone out of your way to protect us…let us protect you this time…"_  
 _  
_ _"It's a shame, really…you would likely have done well, had anyone else been assigned to your team…"_

 _"Good lord, he's…he's ALIVE! Doctor, his body…it reanimated!"_  
 _"That's impossible, he's been dead for a month!"_

He had to hold on, to be strong…for everyone…for her…

 _A familiar scent of chocolate brown hair...of soft, tanned skin, delicate fingers caressing his face…_ _  
_ _Of a pair of familiar amber eyes…full of fear…pain…horror…_ _  
_  
 _"Chief, Help me!"_  
 _  
_ _A familiar…and yet unfamiliar…face…the terrified eyes fading away, replaced with flames…_ _  
_  
 _"You were always were a stubborn sort, weren't you? I think it's one of the things I liked about you."_

In his distorted vision, spots of black and red filling his eyes, he saw a dark shape suddenly appear, running to his side, highlighted by the growing brightness as his body began to fail him…a familiar voice echoed in his ears as though it were shouting over a vast distance.  
 _"Commander!"_  
He felt himself being shaken, and, trying to focus, he managed to make out two worried-looking crimson eyes surrounded by black wings…

"Qray…"

Darkness swallowed him whole, with an echoing scream…and those Amber eyes…

[=]

 _"You coming chief?"_ _  
_The voice… _  
_ _"You always have to be the hero, don't you…?"_ _  
_No…I just don't want to lose the ones I care about… _  
_ _"You win…you said if I fell for you before the end of the semester I would come home with you this summer…"_  
…Fell for me…?  
 _  
_ _A familiar head of ash-black hair…an uncharacteristically short dress….and those eyes…_

 _"Cydney Ashford is dead…I go by Cinder Fall now…"_  
 _" Fall? What, like the season?"_  
 _"Perhaps…"_

"Commander?"

[=]

Pyrrhos slowly opened his eyes, letting the distant voices-and the impossible realities that were tied to them- fade into his memory, as he looked up into the worried face of Qray. Hovering behind her was an older man, a familiar pair of glasses perched on his nose, his lined face set in a worried grimace. The thundering of his blood-and the voices- faded into the background, to be replaced with the muted beeping of hospital monitors.  
"Qray…" he rasped, his throat dry. His Lieutenant let out a sigh of relief as she hung her head.  
The two figures hovered over him, as he began to register the sensation of lying on his back, on a surface that could only be a hospital bed, that mix of functional softness that one could only tolerate for so long. He could feel the roughness of electrode readers attached to his chest and an IV in his right arm.

"That was a near thing, sir." The older man said, turning away and peeling off a pair of thick, bloodstained gloves that covered his hands. Around him were arrayed tables of surgical instruments and other medical machinery: the Commander realized in a moment of clarity that he was in the central surgical bay of the camp's medical center. Compared to the rough canvas of the tent and the simplicity of the tables, the equipment, part of his payment from Eisen Schnee, was state of the art. The machines had only arrived that morning.  
"Doctor Goldman…" Pyrrhos groaned, as the older man washed his hands after depositing the gloves in a sealed bin marked "medical waste." The old man sighed again as he turned to face his commander. Aside from Qray, Goldman was the only one Pyrrhos trusted to know about his…condition.  
To everyone else who spotted him in one of his weaker moments, he was recovering from an old injury. Which, in a way, he supposed was true.

"I don't want to know what set this one off, sir" Goldman continued as he stepped over to the bed "But I can't help you if you don't help me in SOME way. The dig is well underway, and we're finding more flakes and shards with each hour, we must be getting close. I can only advise you to return to Thunderhawk base where we have a full medical suite to sustain you, as well as-"  
"No."  
"Commander…" Goldman said with a practiced groan as his superior tried to sit up. Qray's head snapped up as her eyes widened and she placed a firm but gentle hand on his chest to stop him.  
"NO. not after that one…we almost lost you."  
Pyrrhos managed a weak scowl, as he reached over and slid the IV out of his arm.  
"You know what they say about "Almost" Qray…" he replied, releasing the tube and reaching up to peel the electrodes off his chest.

Qray's usually detached expression took on an uncommon concern, and she didn't move her hand as she stared into his eyes. Those Green eyes, once so full of life and energy….now they stood out on his face like emeralds in a pile of coal. Every day seemed to increase the spread of the infection…and the degradation of his body... a body once full of vitality…

She suddenly noticed that he was staring right at her, meeting her gaze. Motioning to the Doctor, Pyrrhos gestured the older man out of the tent.  
With yet another sigh, the Base's primary medical officer turned and, letting a lingering gaze fall on the young man he had pledged his life to, quietly mumbled "I'm sorry" and left the tent, letting the door folds close behind him.

For a long moment, the two were silent, simply staring into each other's eyes as Qray took her hand away from his scarred and brutalized chest, criss-crossed with rough lacerations and pockmarked with holes wrought by blunt surgical instruments. Taking his right hand in both of hers, she squeezed it supportingly, and he saw her eyes had a…slight wetness to them.

Nice to know she cared…

"How long Qray… how long must I continue to fight this…this THING that threatens to consume me…?"

An uncharacteristic sympathy on her face, Qray released his hand, placing her own deceptively delicate hands on his shoulders and slowly massaging them, trying to work out the tension that tied Pyrrhos in more knots than a pretzel. He sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned back. Qray looked over his scarred torso, the bags and lines around his eyes, the skeletal gauntness of his face, the deep scarlet goatee extending like a knife from his chin…

...The inhuman paleness of his left arm, the flesh scoured with black marks that belonged only on a creature of Grimm…

"Sir…you've been pushing yourself hard ever since we started the dig…you need to rest."  
Pyrrhos sighed in frustration has he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
"I can't rest…not yet…not when I'm this close."  
He paused, looking down at the hand clad in the black glove…amazing, that all that stood between the powers contained within his body and the rest of the world…was a few pieces of black leather.  
"I saw…her, again."  
Qray's fingers stopped abruptly, and her eyes widened.  
"Do you honestly still believe what Cydney told you?"  
Pyrrhos said nothing as he sat up and swung his legs off the bed, not taking his eyes off his hand as he made and released a fist over and over.  
"I SAW her, Qray…I SAW her go down…saw Cydney steal...something, from her…saw that Huntsman take her away…"  
his face suddenly contorted in anguished rage, and, tightening his fist, he slammed it into the mattress.  
"…and I lay there and did NOTHING!"  
Qray was silent as her superior trembled, veering on the threshold of despair that threatened to tip him into an uncontrollable pit of emotions…and give himself over to the monsters that warred with his mind for control…  
"You were in no condition to do anything after what Cydney and the Huntsman did to you…" she said slowly.  
his trembles slowly subsided, and his face slowly relaxed. But he refused to meet her gaze.  
"She knew you were there…"Qray went on, as she leaned in close, draping her arms around him in a loose hug. Pyrrhos was silent as she nuzzled her face into his shoulder, closing her eyes.  
"She knew you had come for her…after all that time…you were with her, for one night…"  
"One night…" he repeated "…it hardly makes up for six years…"  
"I dunno…" Qray replied "six minutes or six years…you still came back…she's the kind of girl who didn't care about semantics like that…"

The two faded into silence, letting the weight of everything that had befallen them…befallen their friends…slowly slide off their shoulders. The past year had been one of the longest of Pyrrhos' life. And that was saying something.

When, against all hope, he had found out…she, was alive… to lose her again…

Their thoughts were interrupted, however, as a middle-aged Human male in a black military uniform partly hidden under red armor plates on his torso and arms, sergeant Stripes on his shoulders, silver crew-cut hair on his head, pushed the folds of the tent aside and briskly strode in.  
"Sir, I apologize for interrupting, but-" he said as he snapped to attention and saluted, but his eyes widened as he saw the position his superiors were in.  
"Er…that is to say-"  
"What is it, Sergeant?" Pyrrhos asked, fixing a look at the trooper as Qray released him, his despair subsiding as the business at hand took precedence. It always did…he had responsibilities to tend to.  
the Sergeant relaxed his stance slightly as he let his saluting hand fall to his side.  
"Sir…it's the refugees who came in earlier today…"  
"What about them?" Pyrrhos replied as he stood, a supporting hand on the bed as he held out the other to Qray, who passed him a muscle shirt. The sergeant's eyes briefly looked over his superior's extensive scarring before he replied.  
"There's a lot of faunus among them…fallout from the attack in Vacuo, I think. Some of them want to see you."

Pyrrhos mentally made a note to double the duties of the two who had met with him earlier as, sliding the shirt on, he nodded and followed the sergeant out of the tent, Qray on his heels helping him back into his long white trench coat. He stopped short as something occurred to him and Qray "oof'ed" as she ran into his back.  
"Qray, in my office there should be a Storage drive with some sensitive information on it. Find someone to start sifting through it….there's some important stuff there, the source tells me."  
He felt Qray nod against his back, and by the time he had turned to regard her she was already briskly striding up the avenue of the camp, her boot heels echoing on the duckboards. He watched her go; he knew their conversation about…her, would come up again.  
"Sir!" the sergeant's voice filled his ears, drawing him back to the present, and he turned back to follow the trooper.

[=]

Requiem, as he had established, was a place for people's free will to take flight, outside the constraints of the societies of the kingdoms. No one within the walls of the major kingdoms dared to question the status quo, petrified as they were of the Grimm. "lessons" like Mountain Glenn were thrown in people's faces as reminders why they needed to toe the line and not question the natural order, for to attempt to change things only invited destruction. People willingly gave up prospects and free will, all in the name of collective security. And they stood idly by as those who sought equality, such as Faunus, were oppressed and ignored.  
As a result, few were willing to attempt another path…or find a way to deal with the problem of the Grimm…  
Initially, his group had consisted of a few followers who traveled from village to village, outcasts like himself, who took matters into their own hands, not only dispatching Grimm threats, but threats from Man and Faunus as well: marauding bandits, abusive sheriffs, corrupt governors, crime lords, and of course the White Fang.  
They took nothing in return except a promise of safe harbor in times of need…and in each village they gathered more followers. Qray had been his first ally, joining him as he set out on his path. From there, he had gathered more, and more, until such time came that he had enough people to establish a village in his own right.  
And so, Requiem had become more than a name…and when he discovered just HOW the four kingdoms had collaborated to ensure "security" at the expense of innocent people… it had acquired another mission.  
Never again would he stand back while the powers that had the arrogance to proclaim themselves the rulers of his race played the game of life and death with people's lives…never again would he allow "the Greater Good" to be used as an excuse for wicked deeds…those people abandoned in Mountain Glenn, sealed away to be slaughtered, were only a few among the lost he swore to avenge.

As he followed the sergeant down the avenue, he began to hear a dull roar…and the sounds of desperation.  
As Requiem's reputation had spread as a safe haven for oppressed Faunus who did not want to choose between submission and the White Fang, more and more people, Faunus and their liberal Human supporters, had begun to flock to him for protection. The population of his small enclave had doubled in the past few years as White Fang attacks had increased the distrust of Faunus in the larger world.  
Rounding a corner, he stopped short as a pair of men in the black trench coat uniforms of the defense force raced past, carrying a young Faunus woman on a stretcher. The woman's cat-ears flopped against her head, and a young man, his own face bandaged and tear-streaked, ran alongside, holding her hand.

Finally turning the corner, he was greeted by a scene of bedlam.  
A large group of faunus in ragged clothing, some sitting on the ground simply trying to breathe while others were being assisted by more members of the defense force and any civilians of the camp who were willing to assist, had materialized in the open space at the center of the camp.  
Camp helpers in medical armbands were tending to light injuries amongst the group, while others handed out ration trays, water bottles and blankets. The refugees blubbered thanks, simply happy to be alive and in some semblance of safety. Parents held children close, couples refusing to be separated, all of them with wounds of some sort.  
Here and there as he looked over the group he could hear pleas for help, begging and shouting. He spotted the sergeant at a nearby tent, talking to a young Faunus with a pair of dog-like ears coming from her blonde hair. The sergeant turned to him as he strode over to the pair.  
"Commander Pyrrhos" he said "this is Miss Kostbar. She's more or less the leader of this group. Miss Kostbar, this is Commander Pyrrhos, leader of Requiem."  
The Faunus looked up at him with tired but relieved eyes, taking in his appearance as she held out a hand. He looked her over in turn as he shook it: she wore higher-end clothes, though they were as ragged as the rest of the group's, and when she spoke her accent had a trace of Mistralian in it.

"I believe I have you to thank, for this sanctuary?" she said. Pyrrhos nodded, as he released her hand and turned to look over the group she'd brought with her.  
"I can't promise five-star accommodations and hot tubs" he said "But we have food, shelter and warm beds."

"That's all we can ask for at this point…" Kostbar replied with a sigh. She leaned against the support pole for the tent, closing her eyes for a moment. Pyrrhos glanced at her with mild concern.

"When was the last time you slept, Ma'am?" he asked, as two more Defense troopers ran past with another stretcher. She opened her eyes and looked at him wryly, though Pyrrhos could see deep exhaustion in them.

"We've been moving almost non-stop for days. We daren't rest anywhere outside a population center, lest we provoke a Grimm attack, and…" she looked away, scorn filling her voice "Most of the villages turned us away… they see us as inviting White Fang attacks…or inviting retribution from Humanists."

She looked up at him again, a slight pleading in her eyes.  
"When we reached the port south of here, our hopes to sail to Menagerie were dashed when no one would charter us a ship. That's when a young woman told us about you."

Reaching out hesitantly, she gripped his coat, looking him over again as a tone of desperation came to her voice.  
"She told us about a place where Humanists are the ones that are excluded…where any such hatreds are expunged, and where everyone works together…everyone has a voice…"

Pyrrhos smiled supportively at the young Faunus, as he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder as she began to tremble, her wide blue eyes never leaving his.  
"You're safe here."

He would have continued, but a ruckus from inside the tent behind them broke his train of thought. Turning, as did Kostbar and several others, his eyes fell on a pair of Faunus, rabbit ears poking out of their heads, babbling desperately at Dr. Goldman, where the old man was standing inside the tent. On a table between the three, a small bundle of blankets, which Pyrrhos could see were decorated with suns and cartoon rabbit heads like those of a child, trembled and fidgeted slightly. Dr. Goldman was looking down into the bundle with a serious expression, as he ran a bioscanner over it: another gift from Schnee.  
"Please!" the male faunus shouted "Please, help my son! I'll do anything!"  
Pyrrhos, releasing Kostbar's shoulder, stepped into the tent as the male turned to suddenly at his approach. He took a step back as Pyrrhos strode up to him: the Commander was easily a head taller than him, and more well-built on top of that. The Faunus was thin, and a pair of cracked glasses sat on his nose. A pajama shirt was loosely tucked into a pair of denim pants, and his shoes were worn and scuffed, clearly secondhand. The woman was little better, merely a coat thrown over what he could tell was a nightgown.  
The Male's face was a picture of desperation, as the woman, who Pyrrhos presumed was his wife, came up and peered into the bundle, seemingly desperate to keep control of her own face as she patted it affectionately.

"PLEASE!" the man pleaded as he grabbed Pyrrhos' jacket "Please! Save my son! I'll do anything, just save him, PLEASE!"  
"What happened?" Pyrrhos asked the two, his tone even, conciliatory. The Faunus's lips trembled as he met the taller Commander's gaze, his wife coming up next to her husband and gripping his sleeve in both hands. Pyrrhos could see just by their eyes that neither had slept in days. The male's voice took on a hitch of terror as he spoke.

"We were…we were run out of our home…Humanists…they came in the middle of the night...blamed us and the others for the CCT attack…called us White Fang Spies…they ransacked the town, burned down my house, threw us all out…"  
"Shh, shh. It's alright. You're safe here. " Pyrrhos said as he placed a strong hand on the Faunus' shoulder. The man stared into his eyes, his pleading expression almost painful to look at. His bloodshot eyes were enlarged by the cracked lenses of his glasses, and his air was almost that of a begging child.  
Gently easing the Mans' hands from his coat, he turned to the table where the bundle lay: the blankets had been pulled back, to reveal a young Faunus boy, barely out of toddlerhood, lying on his stomach. His breaths were shallow, his face red with fever, but his skin pale and sickly. The rabbit ears perched on his head drooped over the pillow. His oversized pajama shirt was pulled up to reveal a large patch of skin inflamed with red and black infection in the middle of his lower back. He was obviously in great pain.

"It's a spinal infection…he's…he's always had back problems…" the boy's mother hiccuped, as she turned her gaze down to her child.  
"Does he have medicine?" Pyrrhos asked as he looked at the pair. The boys' father choked back a sob as his grip tightened around his wife, and he looked away in shame.

"We…we didn't have time…the house was already burning…the roof was collapsing, w-we didn't have time to grab it-!"  
Placing a supportive hand on the man's shoulder for a moment, Pyrrhos cast a glance at Doctor Goldman, who sighed.  
"I'm afraid there's little more I can do, sir. The spinal infection is severe, and without his medicine to go by, I can't replicate the drugs he was taking. He's already gone a week without them."

"Can you do anything else, Doctor?" Pyrrhos asked, turning his gaze back to the boy fighting for life before him. His little face was pinched, his lips barely open, his closed eyes seeming to beckon for comfort. Pyrrhos could tell just by looking at him that this was a kind boy; one who never complained…and who had suffered long enough for it to be justified if he did so.  
the Doctor sighed again.  
" I'm sorry sir…we just don't have the equipment for drug replication here... the best I can do is dull his pain. The new machinery hasn't arrived yet, shipping the materials from Thunderhawk base would take a few days, and…" he broke off as he looked down at the boy with a sad expression.  
The message was clear: the boy didn't have a few days.

Behind the two, the boy's mother finally sobbed in desperation as she clutched her husband, who, with trembling lips, barely seemed in control himself.

Slowly, Pyrrhos ran a hand down the lad's brown hair, a comforting gesture, one his parents had often used on him. He felt the boy tremble under his hands…what a trooper, dealing with this pain for so long and not making a peep.

"I can."

Dr. Goldman stiffened, raising his head and staring at his superior in concern, his eyes widening as he saw a familiar expression on Pyrrhos' face. It was the same expression the man always had before he did something reckless…  
"Sir…I know you can, but-"  
"A Man has begged me to save his son." Pyrrhos said quietly, evenly, but with a touch of 'don't you dare stop me' in his tone "how can I do any less?"  
"So soon after your…troubles, sir?" Goldman replied, his eyes set in a worried gaze.  
"What?" the male Faunus asked "what is it? what can he do?"  
Releasing his wife, he came up to the Commander, gripping his sleeve and looking up at him, hope glimmering in his eyes "what can you do?"  
Pyrrhos met the man's gaze; saw a sputtering ember of hope blossom deep within his dark brown eyes. Flicking his gaze to Dr. Goldman, the older man minutely shook his head. He finally cast his jade eyes down to look at the youth's pinched face, as he slept an agonizing sleep.

"I can help your boy…" Pyrrhos replied at last, before turning a sympathetic gaze to the lad's parents  
"But…I don't think you should watch."

[=]

Slowly, Dr. Goldman gazing back with a face full of concern, the boy's parents watching in equal parts worry and confusion as the doctor and a nurse herded them from the tent, Pyrrhos removed the black glove from his left hand. Sliding the black leather into his pocket, he flexed the freed fingers, which the two faunus could see were an inhuman pale white, in contrast to his face tanned through years in the bush.  
And there seemed to be something embedded in his palm…

And then all sight of the interior of the tent was cut off as the flaps were pulled closed. Out of nowhere, two Defense force troopers, assault rifles slung across their chests, appeared and flanked either side of the portal. Their impassive black goggles and coal-scuttle helmets only contributed to an imposing demeanor that clearly said "do not pass." The boy's parents seemed to be on the verge of panic.  
"What's going on?!" the mother cried as she grabbed Dr. Goldman's shirt "What is he doing to my boy?!"  
the middle-aged doctor looked between the two with a sigh.  
"Like he said…he's going to help him, the fool."

"What?!" the boys' father said as he pulled the doctor away from his wife, looking him in the eye with a fierce expression "Why would you want to stop him from doing that?!"  
Dr. Goldman looked at the boy's parents, debating whether or not trying to explain what was about to happen to the exhausted pair was worth the effort.

Before the doctor could reply, however, the mass of people in the open area jumped in surprise as what sounded like a thunderclap boomed through the camp…emanating from the tent where the two Faunus had just left their boy.  
Turning their eyes back to the tent, the two faunus watched with growing horror as an ethereal, rippling black light suddenly began to emanate from the bottom of the tent material, around holes and openings, and a dull roar began to echo from within the canvas walls. Kostbar, who had come closer to the two, jumped back in surprise as a bolt of black energy suddenly shot out of a hole in the tent, arcing into the ground with a puff of steam. Ghostly, ethereal figures seemed to rise from the tent like smoke, and then, tinny in the ears of the group….

The barely perceptible sound of a child whimpering…

"PETER!" the two rabbit Faunus cried as they dashed towards the tent, only to be held back by the troopers. Dr. Goldman came up and helped in the attempt to restrain them, but his eyes remained fixated on the tent as he muttered, his voice barely audible over the growing noise.  
"The fool…the thick-headed, hero-complex fool…"

"Let me go!" the boy's mother screamed as she wrestled with the two guards "let me go! What is he doing to my baby?!"  
"Helping him!" one of the troopers shouted back over the noise. Even as he spoke, however, He shot a glance to his partner, who met it with one of his own as the ground briefly trembled and a dull moan began to fill the ears of the assembled and growing crowd, clouds circling overhead like an oncoming storm: the Commander's power was always something to behold…and possibly dread, if you were on the receiving end. no one quite knew WHAT it was, a semblance, some dark power, black magic...a corrupted aura...  
All the average member of Requiem knew was that the Commander only ever used his strange, mighty ability when he absolutely had to.

Then, as suddenly as the light and noise had come, as though someone flipped a switch, it vanished. The smoke clouds and rippling energy dissipated and faded out of existence, the dull moaning fell silent, and the arcing bursts of light dimmed.  
And the Whimpering, barely audible in their ears over the noise, faded as well. The boy's parents, the guards and Dr. Goldman froze, a sense of trepidation filling the air…as the Commander shoved the tent flap aside.

For a long moment, the only sound filling the camp was the wind off the plains blowing through the canvas and plastic walls of the temporary buildings. The two Faunus stared at the tall figure who filled the small opening of the tent, his fists clenched and trembling, his face seeming to be struggling to remain impassive. If one knew him, and Dr. Goldman did, one would notice his face had gone almost as pale as his inhumanly white arm, and the bags around his eyes had darkened to be virtually black.

Slowly, staggeringly, he stepped away from the opening, the moon shining on his face as the clouds cleared as suddenly as they'd gathered…to reveal the table behind him, the bundle upon it shifting and moving. The two Faunus looked on, amazement filling their faces as they saw their son sit up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily as he looked towards them. They didn't notice-or care-as a small scattering of black rose petals blew off the table in the idle wind…and crumbled to dust as they hit the floor.

"Mommy? Daddy?" he said to their awed expressions as he yawned "Whaddis it? was I snoring?"  
His mother's hands flew to her mouth, and his father rubbed at his own eyes in disbelief.  
"P-Peter…" the male said, a hitch in his voice as his wife sobbed aloud"PETER!"

The guards released the pair as they dashed past the commander into the tent, scooping their son into their arms and all but smothering him with hugs and affectionate kisses. Behind them, Kostbar and the refugees stared in amazement: they had all known of the poor boy's pain…he'd slipped into a delirious state not long after he and his parents had joined the group, and many had gone out of their way to help him as best they could.  
Now, to look at him, you'd think he'd never been sick.  
The crowd moved towards the tent, excited and relieved murmurs filling the air as the two parents carried their son outside. His face was clear and healthy, and he nuzzled into his mother's neck as she continued kissing him over and over, his father holding them both close.

Dr. Goldman looked on, putting a smile on his face for any observers, before letting it drop as he turned to look on his superior.  
Pyrrhos staggered away from the crowd surrounding the two, leaning on tent poles for support, a hand on his forehead as he lurched down the avenue. The old man trotted to the Commander's side as he collapsed into a camp chair that sat outside a nearby tent. His face was coated in sweat and he sucked in deep breaths as he pulled the black glove out of his pocket and managed to put it back on his hand. Goldman stood by until the glove was firmly in place…he'd treated several people who'd made the mistake of grabbing the Commander's 'ghost hand' immediately after he used it.  
Two of them were still recovering at Thunderhawk base…he wasn't sure if they'd ever wake up.  
He came out of his thoughts to look down at the Commander, who was leaning back, his head against the canvas of the tent, his green eyes-so dim, almost lifeless-gazing up at his Physician. The Doctor's face fell into a tired scowl.  
"Was it worth it, sir?"  
Pyrrhos said nothing as he continued sucking in breaths. His body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds: it was all he could do to remain conscious at the moment.  
His "ghost hand" as he called it, was just one of many crimes he would need to avenge…for its truth was something too cruel for most to comprehend.

"Commander!"  
Pyrrhos turned, slowly, to meet the tear-filled gaze of the Male Faunus, where he and his wife were holding their son. The man emanated awe and gratitude as he hugged his family close. His wife was focused entirely on their boy, kissing and squeezing him as he hid his shyness at the attention he was receiving in her breast.  
Around him, the refugees and the camp members all looked at Pyrrhos in equal awe, even those who had seen him do this before. The male Faunus, his wet eyes bright, smiled broadly at him.

"…Thank you!"

For the first time that night, a sense of…inner calm seemed to come over the Commander. He nodded towards the man with a small smile coming to his lips as he watched the faunus turn back to his son, shameless tears falling from his eyes.  
To bring someone back from the edge of losing everything…

"That." He said to Goldman "makes it worth it."

"If you say so, sir." The old man said with a cynical tone. Pyrrhos hmmph'd in reply: he'd brought Goldman into Requiem for his skills, not his attitude. Besides, in a sea of fawning sycophants, he enjoyed having someone around who was willing to tell him to his face that he was wrong.  
Not that he always listened, he just preferred a different opinion to "yes Commander!" now and then.

"What was his name?" Pyrrhos idly asked, accepting a water bottle from a passing camp helper. Goldman looked back towards the Faunus family, who had been absorbed into the crowd, many of whom were being led towards the large barrack tents at the edge of the clearing.  
"Scarlet, or something like that. They were never really coherent enough to tell me straight.'

"Hmm." Pyrrhos replied as he drank the bottle dry in a few gulps. He'd know soon enough: proper registers helped keep things in order, after all.  
"If you'll excuse me, sir." Goldman said as he turned back towards the medical tent "I've got other patients to see, and I have to make sure your little lightshow didn't damage any of those nice new toys you managed to acquire."  
Pyrrhos waved him off without a word, idly watching the doctor disappear back into the medical tent. A good man, Goldman.  
heh.  
"Dr. Goodman."

Before his exhausted mind could further make witticisms to keep him focused, a low rumbling suddenly echoed in his ears, coming closer to his position. Turning his head, he saw a large, dark green shape tear around the corner of the avenue, bearing down on his position. A figure was on its back, waving wildly.

"Commander!"

Pyrrhos peered up as the heavy transport truck skidded to a halt at his feet, Qray leaping from the bed. To his surprise, she had a wide smile on her face, something he rarely saw. The other men in the truck, a mix of troopers and diggers, mirrored her expression. He looked between them with confusion as he stood on still-shaky legs.  
"What? What is it?"  
Qray walked briskly up to him, wrapping him in a hug as her smile never wavered. He looked down at her, perplexed, as she spoke.  
"Word from the dig site, sir…we've found it…!"

[=]

OC's as per the Color Rule:  
Qray: Phonetically similar to "Gray"  
Argent Shanmao: Silver Ocelot (French and Mandarin)  
Breen Sin: Glacier Blue (Norwegian)  
Dr. Goldman: Gold.  
Kostbar: Golden (German, though referring to something precious or luxurious rather than the color) in reference to a "Golden Retriever" as per her dog features.


	7. Chapter 6: Training Montage

_Nikos Estate, Mistral.  
Two weeks later._

The sound of blades clashing echoed from the training circle behind the Nikos estate, a ringing tone of metal striking metal, shouts and growls of dueling partners, and a surprised yelp as a figure in training armor suddenly went flying out of the ring to land with a THUD! in the grass.

"Again"

Pyrrha, in full armor, stood in the center of the ring, four young men in training armor scattered around her, slowly regaining their senses and standing on shaky legs. The men, all teens her age or maybe a year older, were training assistants from Sanctum who worked for her father, and had volunteered their time to help her keep in shape for the upcoming festival. Such people were, typically, Huntsmen Academy pre-graduates who had, for reasons untold, either fallen out with their teams or, less commonly, lost team members on missions. This did not necessarily call into question their personal skills, and those who met a series of requirements could still earn their final scores via volunteer service at combat schools.

Outside the ring, several more young men and women were sitting, recovering from their bouts. They were not much older than Pyrrha, and were a mix of human and Faunus. Several of the Nikos house staff moved among them, providing drinks in the hot sun and, when needed, tending to injuries. The youths were taking their trouncing in stride: it was all for their own personal goals of becoming Huntsmen and Huntresses.  
Besides, even in defeat they could still brag that they'd fought Pyrrha Nikos.

In a chair shielded by an Umbrella near the edge of the ring, Kokkino watched the matches with a practiced eye: while her frail condition kept her from participating directly, her mind and tacticians eye were as sharp as ever when it came to the upkeep of Pyrrha's abilities. She scowled as Pyrrha briefly paused to clean sand from Milo's blade. The weapon was in sword mode at the moment, though all three of its forms had gotten a workout that day: the aide who had just flown through the air with the greatest of ease stared down at his armor's chest piece, where a perfectly round dent had been formed, courtesy of Milo's Rifle Mode.

True to form, Pyrrha had used her semblance to subtly manipulate her opponents weapons: not one had come close to striking her all morning.  
And Kokkino had noticed.

"No, no, NO!" her mother said in a scolding tone as she stood and stepped into the ring. Taking Milo from Pyrrha's hand, she held the blade up, looking down its edge like a rifle for a moment, before twirling it in her hands and jabbing it into the dirt.  
"What did you do wrong?" she asked as she turned to her daughter, her voice cool and academic. Pyrrha met her gaze, all business, as she tended to be in battle situations.  
"My grip was loose." She replied, standing with her hands at her sides, legs spread slightly as though she were being inspected, "I drove too much power into my fists instead of the blade, weakening the effect of my cross-cut, and-"  
"Your SEMBLANCE." Kokkino cut her off, her gaze piercing, "You're relying too much on your SEMBLANCE."  
Pyrrha looked at her mother, her expression clouding in confusion. Kokkino immediately broke into a lecture, addressing not just her daughter but the training aides as well, who looked upon her with the same respect they would show a teacher at the academy.  
"While Your Semblance is important, and learning to master it is a vital skill for a Huntsman or Huntress, coming to rely on it can put you in a compromising position. It is tied to your aura, and once that is depleted the power behind your semblance will be reduced as well."  
Raising her hand, she snapped her fingers, and the crowd of teens watched in awe as a fireball sprang to life from thin air. Cupping it in her palm, Kokkino continued speaking, her gaze locked on her daughter.  
"But YOU use your semblance like a security blanket, not as the offensive force it is meant to be!"  
Lashing out with her fist, the ball of fire rocketed across the ring into a training dummy that stood nearby, immolating it instantly. As the wood and wicker figurine collapsed into the sand, Kokkino, repeated the action on the remaining five dummies, incinerating them in turn. She lowered her hand: she hadn't taken her eyes off Pyrrha once during the display. Her eyes bore disappointment, anger, frustration and confusion in equal amounts, all of it radiating from her like the heat from the burning dummies.  
"I've seen you flip cars and send training robots flying like Mistral Day rockets, and yet you refuse to make full use of your power where it really matters!"

[=]  
Pyrrha stood, stoic and silent, with only a brisk nod indicating she had heard her mother's words.  
Inside, however, a small voice at the back of her mind-one that she always tried to ignore- was screaming.  
 _For goodness' sake, mom, do you want me to KILL somebody?  
_ She knew full well the scope of her powers….and how dangerous they were if she didn't control them completely…the many, many Sanctum students she'd injured in training sessions were just a few of the traumas that tugged at the back of her mind in those ethereal hours of the early morning, in that state between asleep and awake….

…where Jaden's face always was… _  
_

[=]

At the edge of the training area, Spartacus, in a loose shirt, khakis and a sun hat, kept a close eye on his great-niece. Ever since the news of the Vacuo CCTS attack had come down like a hammerblow, Pyrrha had…folded in on herself. Any thoughts of taking a break had vanished from her mind, and she'd thrown herself full-force into her training. The very next morning after the news had come, he'd gotten up at his usual early hour to find her already doing calisthenics in the back yard. And it seemed like she hadn't stopped once in the two weeks since, save for collapsing into her bed at the end of each day, utterly exhausted. He'd come in time and again to wish her goodnight, only to find her already asleep, sometimes not even having bothered to take off her armor or get under the sheets.  
And, more often than not, her outstretched fingers were caressing the photo of Jaden that he had given her...and there was a slight wetness on her cheeks.

The only sign of hope he could see for her emotional state was that her scroll was at her side at all times, awaiting the minute, the second, the INSTANT the CCTS would come back online.  
Spartacus could see, even if Pyrrha's parents did not, just how much pain Pyrrha was in. She went to bed late and woke up early. She ate sparingly and barely seemed to register the taste of what she was consuming. He could see her slight limp at the end of each day, how she favored one arm or the other, how actions such as climbing the stairs left her breathless for a moment. And, most worryingly, she barely spoke. She was worse than she'd been before she left for Beacon.

It was as though she believed the universe had determined to cut her off from her friends, so why fight it?

The old Huntsman remained silent as Kokkino finally shook her head with a huff of exasperation before she continued.

"Now dear" Kokkino said, as she turned to the assembled group of trainees, "We'll need to practice your fencing. Who's up for it?"  
Spartacus' eyes brightened conspiratorially as the training aides fidgeted. A few that had blades tried to hide them behind their backs.  
"Come on…" Kokkino drew out as the old man disappeared back into the house, "You're all here to fight, so you might as well take your drubbings where they come."

Pyrrha, her expression mortified, facepalmed behind her mother, casting an expression at the trainees that said "I'm so sorry" as though she'd screamed it aloud. Kokkino's words seemed to have the opposite effect of her intent, as the aides looked away, fidgeting uncomfortably. The older woman scowled.  
"If this is the best the next generation of Huntsmen can offer, we're really doom-"

"I'll take her"

[=]

Both Kokkino and Pyrrha spun in surprise as Spartacus reappeared, leaning his eagle-headed cane on one of the benches that surrounded the ring and sliding the decorated belt and sheathe for his own sword, Dicere, around his waist. With a deft motion honed through years of experience, the gleaming silver sword sprang free of its housing into his hand: neither Rapier nor Broadsword, the long, well-honed blade shone like ancient treasure in the morning sun. Pyrrha stared nervously at her great-Uncle as he stepped into the ring.  
"Gus…" She said "I don't think I should-"  
"Oh come now, child." He said, cutting her off, "If I can't match a whippersnapper like you, then I really have gotten old."

Kokkino pondered the old man with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing.  
"Besides" he went on, taking a few practice swings, Dicere cutting a shining arc through the morning sun, "I need the practice."  
He followed up with a few basic thrusts and swings that seemed to imply otherwise. Pyrrha looked into Gus' face with narrowed eyes as he came up to her.  
"You're up to something" she said quietly.  
Gus cocked an eyebrow as a 'who, me?' smirk came onto his face.  
"You'd best raise your sword, little Firesprite, lest you get cut." He replied, as he stood, blade at "en guard", his free hand behind his back. The hilt of the sword was specifically molded so that he could use it one or two-handed. The reasons for that were ones Pyrrha knew all too well…

For a long moment, Pyrrha stared at her Great Uncle, letting his intent tumble about in her mind. Behind her, her mother huffed.  
"Well, Pyrrha" Kokkino said, an eyebrow still cocked at her uncle-in-law as she stepped back to her chair, "If the old man is looking for a fight, I suggest you let him have it."  
The redhead spun to affix her mother with a shocked expression.  
"Mom, I can't fight-!" she began to say, but was cut off with a surprised yelp as Dicere suddenly flashed in front of her eyes, Spartacus stabbing out but deliberately missing her.  
"Never take your eyes off your opponent." Spartacus' deep voice echoed in her ears, "Come now, Pyrrha, that was a rookie mistake."  
Stepping back, Pyrrha turned her gaze back to Spartacus, her eyes still pondering, still trying to guess his motive. The old man stood, legs slightly apart in a practiced battle stance, both hands on the sword…for the moment. His rakish face and silver hair only added to the mental image of a knight of old that always came to the teenagers mind when she saw him with his sword. Indeed, it was due in no small part to Gus that she had made a sword part of Milo's optional forms, and many nights had been spent practicing basic fencing moves with him in this very same training ring.  
But today…something was…different.  
"Raise your blade, Pyrrha." Spartacus said, the smile slowly sliding from his face as his Green eyes slid into a hawk-like gaze, one that made Pyrrha shiver internally.  
It was the same one he used on challengers who were about to get a severe trouncing.

Sighing and holding out a hand, Pyrrha summoned Milo to her grip, mimicking Spartacus' battle stance as she fixed her green eyes on his own.  
Outside the ring Kokkino stared at the two, before sighing herself and barking out.

"Begin!"

[=]

The old man scowled as Pyrrha lunged forward and opened with a standard cross-cut swipe, which he easily deflected. His scowl deepened as she continued with a series of standard-and wholly predictable-cuts and jabs.  
"Stop using the standard attacks, use the unorthodox!"he commanded, as though they were back in the early days of her training.  
Stepping back, the redhead then dashed forwards, Milo whirling in her hands as she stabbed at Spartacus' shoulders. Dicere *CLANGED* as the silver blade deflected the blow. Puffs of sand and dust billowed into the air as the two danced around each other, looking for an opening.  
"You're telegraphing your movements, THINK, don't just FEEL!"  
He delivered a sudden knee to her midsection, causing Pyrrha to *oof!* in surprise before she stabbed up without missing a beat, driving towards Spartacus' left shoulder this time. The old man tut-tutted at her.  
"How often must I tell you…control my centerline!"  
Milo seemed to change direction mid-blow, suddenly driving into the center of Spartacus' chest. Dicere flashed in the sun, driving the red weapon clear as Spartacus leapt deftly aside. The training aides gasped in awe at the deceptively ancient man's maneuvers. Gus smirked as he steadied his footing.  
"Good!"  
As Pyrrha charged again, he suddenly freed one hand from the hilt and sent a pulse into the sand beneath her left foot with his semblance: telekinesis had had so many uses over the years.  
Pyrrha stumbled, toppling onto her side with a yelp, only to roll and spring back to her feet with a flurry of cuts and jabs without slowing down.  
"Faster, destroy my focus!' he barked as he deftly deflected each blow, the red and silver swords flashing through the air, glaring spots of sunlight reflected off their blades creating a glittering effect. Pyrrha's face was locked in a determined expression as she slipped out of "training mode" and into her mental 'challenge mode." Spartacus caught a quick glimpse of her tight hands where they gripped Milo's hilt.  
"You're holding the sword too tightly!"

There! The minute loosening of her fingers. Just the opening he needed to end all this.

Pyrrha's expression morphed from determination to shock as Gus swung Dicere in between her arms and deftly flicked Milo out of her hands while simultaneously using a leg to kick Pyrrha in the back of her shin, forcing her to her knees. He saw the briefest blink of energy course over her body as her Aura flickered…ever so slightly.  
Summoning her blade to his free hand, with a flip of his wrist, he switched it to gun mode and aimed it directly at her face.

"Now too lightly."

The crowd of aides was silent in awe, and even Kokkino's eyes widened at the scene: none of the students had seen Pyrrha Nikos go down before, certainly not to an ancient opponent like this.  
And certainly not so quickly…the fight had lasted less than a minute.  
Pyrrha stared over the barrel of her weapon directly into Spartacus' forest green eyes, which were locked on her jade orbs with an expression of 'told you so' mixed with disappointment.  
"If this were a real fight, in the real world…" he said slowly, as he depressed Milo's trigger with a *click* of an empty magazine, "…You would be dead right now, Pyrrha."  
From her position on her knees, one hand frozen in mid-air where she'd attempted to reclaim her weapon via her semblance, her head raised and looking directly at his eyes…Spartacus could see his quick "lesson" had snapped Pyrrha out of whatever mental state she'd put herself in. Or at the very least weakened the barriers holding it up.  
"I-I was trying not to hurt you-" she stammered, only to be met with a scolding shake of Spartacus' head.  
"And therein lies the problem." He said, as he flipped Milo back into sword mode and held it out to her. She took it with slightly shaking hands as he spoke, directly to her rather than the crowd of awed training aides.  
"Pyrrha, your goal in battle is-or at least should be-to win, or at the very least make sure your opponent doesn't win. You can't do that without running the risk of hurting them."  
"But this is training-" Pyrrha stammered defensively. Gus silenced her with a raised finger.  
"Training, yes. But that doesn't mean you should treat it any less than actual combat. I've seen you fight: you don't hesitate to use your full power against Grimm or training targets."

Holding out a hand as his other sheathed Dicere with a sliding "click" he let Pyrrha take it and gently pulled her to her feet.  
"It's HUMAN targets you seem to have a problem with."  
There. The slight widening of her eyes. a light of recognition…or a desperate effort to not recognize it. He'd comforted Pyrrha in the aftermath of training sessions and contests where her control over her powers had faltered…and she herself had gone too far. While she'd never outright killed anyone…it didn't take a genius to see that she had ended a few otherwise prospective Huntsman careers for her fellow classmates. While the incidents, few that they were, were accidents…

He scowled internally as he recalled how her parents had stood dumbly by, perplexed as Pyrrha briefly broke down sobbing at a celebration party for her first contest win at Sanctum…neither of them caring that her win had been the result of her inadvertently breaking a classmate's arm in the final duel.

Nor could they register the significance that not a single one of her invited classmates had come to the party…

His eyes remained fixed on Pyrrha, a tense yet consoling gaze, as he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.  
"What's say we take a break for a bit? I'm sure your Aura is getting low after all this."  
Unhitching his belt as he turned away from her, he motioned to some of the house staff, who trotted towards the ring with trays of water and towels. Ignoring the scathing look Kokkino was giving him and stepping out of the ring, he froze as Pyrrha's voice, husky and tired, came to his ears.

"Again."

Spartacus turned back to his great niece, concern mixing with a scowl on his face as she stood in the center of the ring, seemingly unaffected by strain or exhaustion...to say nothing of what he had just lectured her about. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen someone look simultaneously resolute and forlorn before. He could sense rather than see approval move across Kokkino's features as she turned her head back to her daughter.

Well, he hadn't gone through all this to let Pyrrha continue driving herself into the ground.  
"Pyrrha, it would be best if-"  
The redhead's eyes suddenly flashed like lightning, and he felt Dicere jiggle on his belt, to say nothing of the other metal objects on his person. Glancing around, he could see the others reacting in surprise, hands going to weapons, belt buckles, anything metal they were wearing.  
Blowing out a breath through her nose, Pyrrha fixed her mother with an expression of angered determination as she set her feet apart and held Milo at the ready.

"Agai-AAAHH!" she began to demand, when her eyes widened and she cried out in sudden pain.

[=]

"Pyrrha!" Kokkino cried, maternal concern replacing her teacher's indifference as the teenager collapsed to her knees, a hand grasping her left calve as Akouo and Milo fell to the ground. Spartacus, her mother and the training aides rushed to her side as she grimaced in pain.  
"Dear, what is it?" Kokkino asked as she knelt beside her daughter. The redhead's eyes were squeezed shut and her lips were a fixed line as she grasped her leg.  
"…Leg cramp…" she muttered. Kokkino tutted sympathetically, the first time she'd made such a sound all day.  
"Alright, alright, hold on." Kokkino said, her maternal nature mixing with her training as she gently eased Pyrrha over until she was sitting on her backside. The teenager's face was pinched in discomfort.  
Stretching the offending leg out straight, Kokkino applied pressure to the bottom of Pyrrha's foot, forcing the toes to point up and forcibly stretching out the tightened muscles. Her daughter bit her lower lip as her hands flew to her leg. An almost inaudible whimper came from her mouth.  
"I know it hurts, I know" Kokkino said, "But this is the best way to-"

"Stop!" Spartacus suddenly commanded, his deep, booming voice filling the backyard of the house, causing the assembled training aides to jump in surprise. Stepping past them, he knelt before Pyrrha, who was gritting her teeth in pain as her mother worked on her leg.

"Stop it, stop it" he said, brushing the woman's hands aside before taking one of Pyrrha's arms over his shoulder and pulling her to her feet.  
He turned to regard the training aides, who looked at him with worried expressions.

"We're done for the day. Return to your dormitories, I'll make sure you get our full points for today's session." He said to them, dismissing them with a nod of his head. Kokkino squawked behind him, as she marched around to Pyrrha's other side, glaring at Gus.  
"We are most certainly not done! Here, just let me-"

"I Said…" Spartacus growled, turning to regard her with cold green eyes which stopped her in her tracks, his voice brokering no argument,  
"…We. Are. DONE. For the day."

"Gus…" Pyrrha winced as she tried to put pressure on her bad leg, "I just need a minute…"  
"Rubbish." He replied.

Pulling her from the crowd of teens, Spartacus helped her limp to the bench, before getting down on one knee and, swiftly removing the boot and greaves from the offending appendage, began to vigorously massage the cramped area. Pyrrha's whole body clenched for a moment, before sighing as the twisted muscle began to relax.  
Spartacus motioned to the mingling house staff, beckoning one holding a tray of water glasses while another placed a towel on the bench beside Pyrrha.  
"Here" he said, directing the staff with the water to Pyrrha, "Stay hydrated, you've been driving yourself all morning without a break. No wonder you cramped up."

Accepting the beverage with a nod of thanks, Pyrrha drank thirstily before pressing the cool, condensation-dripping glass it to her forehead, rolling it across her sweat-matted hair. Spartacus looked up at her in concern as she took several deep breaths, as though trying to calm herself. This close, he could see the sweat streaming down her face, the cuts and scratches from the few tumbles she'd taken, and what looked like the beginning of sunburn on her pale shoulders.

Letting her un-cramping leg fall, he grabbed the towel that was sitting on the bench and, using a few more of the glasses to liberally soak it with cool liquid, draped it over Pyrrha's bare shoulders. She looked at him at last, a small smile of thanks coming to her lips.

"Here, just rest now." Gus said, taking off his sunhat and perching it on her head. Her gloved hand flew to the brim of the hat as she looked at him in affectionate surprise: she'd loved wearing hats as a child, with fond memories of Gus coming to the house when she was young and greeting her with his favorite Fedora plopped onto her head. The pleasant memory of the action triggered an endorphin release in her, further calming her racing nerves.  
Standing, Spartacus twisted his back for a moment, before his eyes fell on the group of training aides, who stood, still milling about, their eyes on him.  
"I believe I said we were done for the day?" Spartacus growled at the assembled teens.  
"Excuse me" Kokkino said with a scowl as she emerged from the group, "But I believe we're far from done."

Spartacus fixed her with a pointed glare as he replied.  
"Koko, she's in no condition to carry on-"  
"Nonsense! She needs a few minutes to rest, that's all, she's put up with far worse than-"  
Spartacus' eyes flashed, and, reaching down to where Pyrrha was sitting, yanked her Scroll from her belt pouch. Snapping it open and keying in a command, he held the device to Kokkino's face, his own clouded in anger.  
On the screen, Pyrrha's Aura level was displayed, flashing red and dangerously low. Her mother's face softened immediately, and she looked down at her daughter, her eyes widening in concern.

"Pyrrha, why didn't you say something?" she asked, the maternal concern in her voice a sharp contrast to her domineering personality of a few seconds before.

The Teenager cast a saddened expression up at her mother, then at her great uncle, before pulling the brim of the hat down to hide her face from their view. Her mother could have sworn she saw the faintest embarrassed blush on her daughter's cheeks.  
Sighing, Kokkino idly waved off the training aides, who shuffled out of the yard with concerned expressions: few could say they'd seen Pyrrha Nikos go from utter victory to shut down in the space of a few minutes.

Spartacus kept his eyes trained on the departing group as he folded Pyrrha's scroll up and placed it gently beside her. The teen took it in her hands immediately, holding it in both hands like it was something precious. With a sigh Kokkino placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, still shielded from the sun by the wet towel.  
"Alright, take a few minutes." Kokkino said "We'll practice your basics for the rest of the day."  
"Yes mother." Pyrrha replied, her voice quiet, almost emotionless. Spartacus noticed that her grip tightened on her scroll every time she replied to her mother.  
"And later tonight we'll review your attack theory: even if you did pass your courses you can't let your academics slip. This will be a good opportunity to brush up on your reading."  
"Yes mother."  
"And goodness me, have you eaten anything today? Here' I'll have one of the staff make you a protein shake, you need to get some vitamins in you."  
"Yes mother."  
"Make sure you're stretching out that leg: I'll call my masseuse, she'll get you all limbered out-"

"Pardon me, Mistress."  
Kokkino paused, looking up in annoyance as Slately, the Main butler of the household and de facto head of the house staff, approached, his white summer coat shining in the sunlight. He looked distressed as he approached the three: Pyrrha's Mother was not the easiest person to work for.

"What, what is it?" Kokkino snapped: she didn't need to be bothered when trying to help Pyrrha prepare for the upcoming semester. Slately stopped as he came up to her and bowed respectfully before speaking.  
"A pair of guests who wish to speak to Mistress Pyrrha, ma'am" the man said. Kokkino scowled and shook her head, groaning in frustration.  
"Ugh, tell them to come back later, we've got far too much to do for her fans or some of Zelan's Minions to be-"  
"Actually" the Butler replied nervously, his fingers fidgeting, "They claim they are schoolmates of the mistress…"

"Aw, come on" a familiar voice said, as Pyrrha's eyes sprang open and a look of shock came to her face, "Schoolmates? Is that all the introduction we merit?"

 _That voice…  
_

"Neptune!" Pyrrha said in delight, catching the two elder Nikos by surprise as she sprang to her feet, forgetting her leg as she spotted two figures standing behind the butler, "Sun!"  
The blue-haired Mistralian and Faunus Vacuean smiled broadly at her as they stepped past Slately, waving at her as she tried to hobble towards them on her still-awkward leg-not helped by the fact that she was still wearing one high-heeled boot while the other foot dangled in its protective black stocking-and they dashed forward to catch her before she fell. She looked between them with a delighted expression as she half-hugged-half-supported herself around their shoulders, their relaxed smiles filling her with sudden energy. She almost laughed as she spoke.  
"I can't believe it! What are you guys doing here?"  
"Ah well" Neptune said, his "cool-guy" demeanor as strong as ever as he shrugged, "We were just passing by, heading into Rivienne, thought we'd stop in and say hello!"  
"And maybe ask you to join us?" Sun added as he patted her on the shoulder. Pyrrha's eyes widened in surprise at the invitation.  
"R-Really?"  
 _They want to hang out…with me?  
_  
"Pyrrha?" Gus' voice came to her ears, snapping her out of her thoughts, "Some…introductions, perhaps, are in order?"  
Pyrrha turned back to her mother and Great uncle, the former with her arms crossed and an annoyed expression on her face while Gus bore a cordial, more welcoming gaze.  
The redhead turned to her family members with a slight embarrassed blush as, using Neptune for support, she slipped her other boot off so she could stand, albeit still favoring her bad leg as Spartacus and Kokkino came up to the three teens, a welcoming smile on the former's face while the latter regarded the two boys with an icy expression.

"It's not every day YOU have company, dear." The old man said as he looked the two guests over. Both boys struck poses as casual as they dared, hiding the shiver Kokkino's gaze sent up their spines: it was clear where Pyrrha got her fearlessness in battle from.  
Pyrrha matched her great uncle's expression as, tossing the boot aside, she placed a hand on each of the boy's shoulders. Neptune was made that much taller than her by the loss of her high heels (and he was still half a head taller than her with them) while she and Sun were roughly the same height.

"Mom, Gus, this is Neptune Vasilias and Sun Wukong. They're friends of mine. Guys, this is my mother and my Great Uncle Spartacus."  
"Pleasure." Kokkino said, her voice as cool as Neptune's hair. Gus, however, stepped forward with an extended hand.

"Welcome, boys, welcome." He said jovially as he vigorously shook each of their hands hard enough to blur the outlines of their arms, "It's a pleasure to meet some of Pyrrha's friends at last!"

The two smiled sheepishly at the old man as they reclaimed their hands, shaking them idly to regain some of the feeling in their fingers. Despite his advanced age, Gus was surprisingly strong.  
"You go to Beacon, then?" Spartacus went on as he directed the teens to the benches around the training ring: with the training aides gone, the area was much more open and welcoming. Still leaning on Neptune, Pyrrha eased herself into a sitting position.  
"We're from Haven, actually" Neptune replied as he sat beside Pyrrha, who was still favoring her bad leg. Kokkino cocked an eyebrow at that, and her expression softened…slightly.  
"Huntsmen in training? Ah, splendid, splendid!" Gus said as he reclaimed his hat from where Pyrrha's sudden stand had blown it off her head, "Always a pleasure to meet the next generation!"  
"Gus was one of the top three members of the first Class of Huntsmen to be formed from Haven Academy." Pyrrha explained to her friends, "He was actually born during the Great War, and his father was a Mistral Skirmisher."  
Both boys looked at the old man with expressions of newfound respect, as Neptune whistled a low whistle: everyone knew well the heady days in the early aftermath of the war, when the system was new and the elements were still being worked out. Many family histories were full of tales of militant holdouts, self-styled warlords that had to be put down, threats to the system from without and within, and of course the Grimm…in the aftermath of the dark times, the Grimm had seemed…stronger, fiercer…deadlier.

"So, just what brings you boys to our humble estate?" Spartacus said as he sat down on one of the benches himself. Sun and Neptune glanced at each other, before, with a slick grin, Neptune slid an arm around Pyrrha's shoulder.  
"Well, like I was telling Pyrrha, Sun and I were wondering if she'd like to come into town with us? You know, just chill, kick back?"  
Pyrrha fidgeted slightly, but a hopeful expression came onto her face: the thought of spending an afternoon with friendly faces was filling her with a happiness she hadn't felt since the day she'd left Beacon. In her pocket, her aura meter slowly beeped as it began to recharge.

Her face fell, however, as she saw Kokkino's scowl deepen. Her mother shook her head as she spoke.  
"I'm afraid Pyrrha is in no condition to-"

" I think it's a splendid idea!" Gus suddenly interjected. Kokkino whirled to look at him with a scathing look, but Gus ignored her and continued speaking.  
"She's been devoting all of her time to training for the Vytal festival. While I admire her dedication, I believe she could use a break. Don't you agree, Koko?" he asked, turning to Pyrrha's Mother, an eyebrow raised so high it looked like it was about to fly off his head.

Kokkino, anger clear on her face, opened her mouth as though she were about to reply, when her gaze fell on the figure of her daughter.

It seemed to Gus that, for the first time, Kokkino noticed how…bedraggled, Pyrrha looked. Her sweat-matted hair clung to her forehead, her chest still rose and fell with deeper breaths than normal, her cramped leg still seemed tender…and the bags under her eyes were stark on her pale skin.  
And despite herself, Kokkino couldn't help but notice the…hopeful expression in Pyrrha's eyes.

A long-worn part of her, flickering from the days of her old vitality, pushed past the boundaries her breakdowns and medicines had built up, and she spoke almost before she could catch herself.

"Oh...Very well…" She groaned at last, "I suppose…an afternoon off can't hurt."

The way Pyrrha's face lit up in delight, her Mother would think someone had just plugged her into a Dust Power cell. Her mouth split in the widest smile Gus had seen on her face in…recent memory, and her tired eyes suddenly glowed with energy.

"Thank you, mom!" Pyrrha said, leaping up to wrap her surprised mother in a hug. Kokkino's shocked expression brought a smile to Spartacus' face as she hesitantly returned the hug. Pyrrha seemed to suddenly resonate with energy.

The two boys smiled at Pyrrha as she turned to face them, before looking down at her armor. She looked back up at the pair, an embarrassed blush coming to her cheeks at her disheveled state.

"Um…may I have a few minutes to get cleaned up, before we go?"she asked hesitantly.  
"Sure thing." Neptune said with a smile.

Her delighted smile returning to her face, Pyrrha hastily gathered up her discarded armor and boots and raced towards the back door, summoning Akouo and Milo to her hands as she dashed (still limping a bit) across the porch and into the house.  
Spartacus watched her go, before turning back to Pyrrha's mother, who had a hand pressed to her chest, her eyes wide in incomprehension. He smirked at the sight: Kokkino was rarely caught off guard.  
Though that it was Pyrrha's affection that caught her off guard…worried him.

Neither of them noticed the look the two teens shot one another, as Neptune kept his eyes on the house where Pyrrha had gone while Sun watched the two elder Nikos.  
"So" Spartacus said, turning to the two boys, "Tell me about Haven! It's been a while since I walked its hallowed halls."

[=]

Pyrrha reappeared a few minutes later, freshly scrubbed from a quick shower, still limping slightly, her armor exchanged for a yellow sundress that came just below her thighs and accented her athletic build. Suntan pantyhose sheathed her legs (and provided support for her still aching calve,) and her feet were clad in a pair of decorative ballet flats that matched her dress. She smiled and blushed as both boys clapped approvingly, ignoring Kokkino's flaming expression as she glared at them.  
"I hope this isn't…too fancy" Pyrrha said sheepishly as she stepped down from the porch and walked over to her friends. Neptune shook his head, waving dismissively.  
"You look STUNNING, Dahling" he said with an exaggerated accent, as he posed like a fashion designer looking over a model. Sun clapped a hand to his face as flames seemed to shoot from Kokkino's eyes.  
Spartacus stepped forward, reaching for his pocket, but Pyrrha waved him off as she produced a purse that matched her dress.  
"I've got it covered, Gus." She said, smirking at her friends, "Goodness knows I've got the spare lien."  
Neptune gasped, placing a hand to his chest in mock dismay.

"My Fair Pyrrha." He said dramatically " You do not mean to tell me YOU would offer we humble two the mercy of your monetary advantage? Oh, you humble us, Pyrrha, HUMBLE US I say!"

Sun casually whacked his partner on the back of the head, smirking at Pyrrha as he produced a wallet of his own.  
"Don't your worry about it. We're good, P." he said with a chuckle.  
Pyrrha cocked an eyebrow at Sun as she regarded the plain leather billfold in his hands: she knew from Blake that the Vacuean Faunus had a slight penchant for..."sticky fingers" as the saying went. Not so much that she wouldn't spend time with him, though.  
And it didn't seem prudent to mention the Vacuean native's tendencies in front of her mother...

None of the three teens noticed the scowl that came to Kokkino's face when her daughter had so casually offered her money to the two as the group walked around the house to the front door, the early summer flowers filling the air with a sweet perfume as birds chirped overhead.

"So…Rivienne?" Pyrrha said, a touch of awe in her voice as she smiled at her companions "I haven't been there in so long…"  
"Yep." Sun said, crossing his arms behind his head as he stretched out his back, "We were thinking about checking out the new Movie Theater they just installed."  
"Perfect way to while away a summer afternoon" Neptune added. Pyrrha cocked an eyebrow at him.  
"Surely, the beach would be-" she began, but Sun cut her off with a sudden slashing motion across his throat as Neptune paled.  
"Ah….heheh…..yeah…no. No beach." The blue-haired teen said as he shivered, "Nooooooo beach."

Pyrrha looked at her friend, confused, even as she heard her mother scoff disgustingly behind her.  
"Well…okay…then." She said, uncertainty in her voice as she watched Neptune take a deep breath to calm himself.

"So, yeah. Maybe a movie, some lunch, a walk along the coast-providing we stay WELL clear of the water-take in some of the shops, etcetera?" Neptune continued, whisking his hair back with a hand flowed across his head as his disarming smile returned. Though still confused-and concerned-about his reaction to her suggestion, Pyrrha nodded amicably as she smiled.  
"That sounds wonderful." She replied.

"I hope you're up for the walk, dear." Spartacus said as he opened the vine-bedecked gate that separated the front yard from the back. Pyrrha looked up at her great uncle, confusion on her face, as the group stopped at the front of the house.  
"Where's Rosa?" she asked. Her mother sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation.  
"Poor girl had some family matters: a brother of hers is in trouble with the police, apparently, and she asked if she could take a few days to straighten things out."  
A disgusted expression on her face both gave Pyrrha no illusions about the family Chauffer's future employment…and put her entirely off further conversation with her mother this morning. Idly, she rubbed the back of her still-aching calve with the top of her other foot as she looked down, pondering her legs.

"Ah, it's fine, P!" Sun said as he clapped her on the back "We can walk, it isn't that far!"  
"You sure?" Neptune said, casting an eye to Pyrrha's long legs where they descended from her dress, "You looked like you were limping a bit, Pyrrha."  
"Oh, Just getting over a leg cramp, I'm fine." Pyrrha replied, causing Kokkino to cock a frustrated eyebrow at Spartacus, who looked away, whistling innocently.

"I'd like the walk." She went on, "Besides, it will give us more time to chat!"  
Both boys smiled at that, and Kokkino sighed as she looked at her daughter with an expression of mild concern.  
"There's supposed to be a chill coming off the sea, dear." she said, "You'd better bring a sweater."  
Pyrrha pondered her mother for a moment, before her face brightened.

"I've got just the thing!" she replied, before she turned and dashed back into the house.

She reappeared a moment later, sliding a black and orange Hoodie over her shoulders. Both boys eyes widened in recognition of the garment as she walked up to them, fluffing out her hair with a smile on her face.

"Isn't that-?" Neptune began to ask, but Pyrrha cut him off with a nod as she hunched her shoulders, letting the sweater fluff against her face, eliciting a contented smile as a familiar smell filled her nostrils.  
"He let me borrow it for the summer." She said with a happy lilt to her voice.

Turning back to her mother, she stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug, which again seemed to take the woman by surprise, combined with the wide smile on her daughter's face.  
"I promise I'll train extra hard tomorrow." Pyrrha whispered into her ear before she released her. Kokkino managed to return the hug without any awkwardness this time, though she seemed...reluctant.  
"You make sure you're home by Ten, then." her mother replied, "You're going to get an early start in the morning."

Pyrrha nodded in affirmation, even as a frustrated feeling began to nibble at the back of her perceptions as she released her mother...

"Well, come on then!" Sun said, sliding an arm around Pyrrha's shoulders as he led her away from the house, Neptune following, "We're burnin' daylight!"  
Pyrrha chuckled jovially, turning her head to wave back at her Mother and Uncle.  
"I'll see you guys later!" she called as she headed up the driveway at the two boy's urging.  
"Have a good time, Dear!" Spartacus called. Her mother managed to force a small smile, which vanished as soon as her daughter turned her back.  
The pair watched her go, as she laughed at some unheard joke Sun whispered into her ear and smiled at something Neptune said.

"She needs this." Spartacus said, a wistful smile on his face as he watched them go. Beside him, Kokkino scoffed. He turned to his niece-in-law with a shocked look on his face, meeting her scowl as she glared at him.  
"She's too tired and worn out to keep training…but by all means, let her go off and waste the afternoon lollygagging with two boys you just met!" Kokkino snapped at her elder uncle. He scowled at her himself.  
"Then why did you let her go…?" he began to ask, before Kokkino sighed angrily.  
"I know, I KNOW, I'm being overprotective. But I don't need her being distracted by…friends." She said as she looked away, "Especially...boys."  
Spartacus' scowl softened as he placed a hand on Kokkino's shoulder, but she shrugged him off.  
"The last thing she should want or need is something like that…Especially now." She concluded. Spartacus mentally shook his head in exasperation: Kokkino didn't know her daughter at all.  
And he'd long since grown tired of trying to explain to her that Pyrrha needed friends more than anything…sometimes even her parents.

As Kokkino turned and strode back into the house, Spartacus sighed , turning his gaze to the retreating forms of the three teens, Pyrrha's ponytail clearly defining her.

"Have a good day, dear." He whispered, "Make the most of it…because I fear there's going to be fallout from this..."

He kept his eyes on the three figures until they were out of sight.

[=]  
Pyrrha gasped in alarm as, without warning, both boys suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into the bushes that ringed the property.  
"Guys?" she yelped, "What? What is it?"  
"Shh!" Sun hissed, putting a finger to his lips as he dragged her into the bushes out of sight of the road, "Just hold on!"  
Pyrrha stared at them with a perplexed expression as they finally paused, standing in the middle of a small clearing surrounded by flower bushes. A few worn stone benches sat in a ring around the space: it had once been a pleasant spot, one Pyrrha used to sneak off to frequently in her younger years. As the two released her, Sun scrambled up the side of one of the bushes, looking back towards the Nikos house.  
"Alright" he whispered, "Coast looks clear. No one's following us."  
"Following us?" Pyrrha said, worry coming to her voice, "Guys, what is it? What's going on?"  
As Sun leapt back down from the bush, he and Neptune cast grim looks at each other before Sun spoke.  
"Alright, in all seriousness, are you okay?" the Faunus asked her, his face deadly serious. Neptune mimicked his expression, looking around to make sure they weren't being eavesdropped upon.  
Pyrrha looked between them, confused.  
"Am I…Okay?" she repeated, completely lost. Neptune sighed, reaching into his belt pouch and pulling out his scroll. He flipped it open as he continued speaking, the pale sunlight that filtered through the bushes glinting off his hair.  
"I got this voicemail from Jaune, just as the Vacuo tower went down: he said you were in some kind of trouble, and asked us to come over and check on you."  
"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked in amazement as a surge of warmth filled her, as she unconsciously placed a hand to her chest: he'd heard her? He'd heard her cry for help? _  
_  
The Blue-haired teen nodded, as, pressing the "play" button, a familiar panicked voice came to Pyrrha's ears.

"-eptune! Neptune listen, you gotta find Pyrrha! She's at her house, I think she's in trouble, she said she needed help! Gah I'm so stupid, why didn't I-a-anyway, please, Neptune, I know you live in Mistral, I wouldn't ask this if I wasn't desperate, but please! Find her, make sure she's okay! She was calling for help just as we left, Nora, Ren and I are worried sick! Please, you gotta fin-!"

The message abruptly cut off with a fizzle of static, and Neptune sighed, closing the phone and putting it away.  
"That must have been when the tower went offline. It's lucky the whole thing wasn't garbled, but anyway, we looked up where you lived and came over as soon as we could."  
"So" he concluded, fixing his gaze directly on the redhead, "Are you okay?"

Pyrrha stared at both boys in amazement for a long moment, still as a statue, before, to their surprise, her hands flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with sudden tears.  
"Pyrrha?" Sun said as he stepped forwards, "Ah, shit I knew it, you are in-!"  
"No, no!" Pyrrha suddenly cried, as she staggered away from the two, hiding her face in her hands.

The two Haven students looked on in confused awe as the resolute figure of Pyrrha, who they had seen dominate dueling rings in their time at Beacon, hunched her shoulders and hiccupped a few quiet sobs as she sank to a sitting position on one of the benches.

"He…he heard me…" she whispered, her voice muffled by the sweater, before she suddenly sucked a deep breath in through her nose, letting her hands drop from her face and looking up at the sky. To Sun and Neptune's growing perplexity, her smile was wide despite her tear-filled eyes, as though she were thanking the universe in some way…

"He heard me…" she said, overjoyed, lowering her head to meet their worried expressions, "...And he sent you guys…"

She met their gaze, noticing their mix of confusion and worry, and her smile dropped away.

"I'm sorry…" Pyrrha sighed as she wiped at her puffy eyes, looking away from the two shamefully,"I got you all worried just because I was melodramatic…"  
"Melodramatic?" Neptune parroted, and scoffed as he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him in surprise, as though she weren't used to such an intimate gesture, which, for such a laid-back character, was surprisingly welcoming and open.

"Pyrrha, you asking for help isn't melodramatic. That's…very very worrying, because I know you aren't the type to ask for help lightly." The Mistralian teen said as he turned and sat beside her, his smile unwavering. Pyrrha shook her head.  
"No, it's just…" she said, hanging her head as Sun sat down on her opposite side, placing a hand over hers where they sat in her redhead clutched at her skirt as she spoke again.

"You met my Mom…" she said quietly.

Both boys looked at each other for a moment, before turning their full attention to their friend. She played with her fingers for a moment, before she continued speaking.

"I'm so sorry about her rudeness...it's just that...I was going to go with Jaune, Nora and Ren to spend the summer at his place…get ready for the festival, train and all that…but my Parents hit the roof as soon as I suggested it…"  
She sniffled for a moment, wiping at her eye with a finger before continuing.  
"I don't think I've ever heard mom so mad…and then…"

[=]

 _"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"  
Pyrrha jerked the scroll away from her ear, staring at it in shock as her mother continued shouting.  
"Do you hear me, young lady? Absolutely not! How could you even suggest such a thing, the very idea! Going off to waste your summer with your team of tagalongs! You're coming home young lady, and that is the final word!"  
"But Mom, we're going to be train-"  
"I…said…NO! end of discussi- AAAugh!"  
Pyrrha gasped in horror as her mother's scream cut off with a ragged cry of pain.  
"Mom? MOM!"  
Pyrrha leapt to her feet, as though her standing up could somehow assist her mother in some way. She heard the scroll clatter to the floor on the opposite end of the line, heard agonized groans and cries, before the sound of running feet came through the connection.  
"Koko! Koko, what is it?"  
"Dad?"Pyrrha cried "Dad, what is it? What's wrong with mom?!"  
"Pyrrha?!" her father's voice came through the line as he scooped up the Scroll on the opposite end before he seemed to shout at someone in the room with him "Take her into the living room!"  
"DAD!" Pyrrha cried, fighting back the tears that came to her eyes. Her father's voice came back to her ears with a heavy sigh.  
"Sweetie, I'm gonna have to call you back, your mother just collapsed."  
"What? B-but-"  
"Sweetie, I'm sorry, I have to go!"  
"Dad-!" Pyrrha cried, but the scroll beeped, indicating the call was terminated at the other end._

 _Holding the device away from her face, Pyrrha stared at the screen for a long minute, as a few of the unshed tears rolled down her cheeks._  
 _"Mom…"_

[=]

"Ah, jeez, P." Sun said, flinching as he looked away. Neptune squeezed Pyrrha's shoulder supportingy as she sighed.

"After that, I couldn't even think about going with them…" Pyrrha sighed despairingly, "…That's why I've been pushing myself so hard…I don't need mom worrying about me."  
She moaned in despair as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and face in her hands, as she trembled for a moment.  
"but…I…I thought I could handle the loneliness, like I have before…but…"

She drew in a deep breath, a hiccup escaping her throat as more tears came to her eyes. She blurted out her next words, her voice choked with emotion.

"…But it hurts! It hurts like it never has before a-and…I just…I can't stand it anymore…"

She leaned back, letting her hands drop to her lap as he hung her head.  
"I'm sorry…"

Sun and Neptune both regarded their acquaintance with sympathetic expressions as Neptune squeezed her shoulder consolingly.  
"I'm sorry, Pyrrha." the Blue-haired teen said consolingly.

Pyrrha shook her head, frustrated further at her lack of control over her feelings.

"Guess I'm just a magnet for bad times and bad moods…I'm sorry if I brought you guys down...just me and my sob stories..." she said mutely.

Sun scoffed at her words while Neptune waved dismissively.

"Pyrrha, everyone gets upset!" the blue-haired teen replied, "We're not gonna start treating you like a crybaby just because you broke down for a second!"  
"And we're your friends." Sun added, placing his hand back on hers, causing her to look at him in surprise, her wet eyes glinting in the sunlight, "We're here for you. If you've ever got a problem, we're here to listen."

"And YOU" Neptune concluded, turning the redhead's attention to him, "You sound like someone who needs a day of de-stressing, courtesy of Vasilias and Wukong relief services, 100% satasfaction, 90% of the time."

Pyrrha wasn't sure if it was Neptune's disarming grin or the ridiculousness of his statement, but, even with the dregs of her tears in her eyes, she broke into helpless giggling, pressing her face into Jaune's hood as Sun and Neptune chuckled around her. For a brief moment the small, long abandoned alcove formed by the bushes sang with amusement as the summer sun streamed through the bushes.

"Sooo…" Sun drew out, not caring he was repeating something he'd already said, "We were thinking we might go into town to, just, you know, hang out for a while? Stroll around the shops, get something to eat, maybe catch a movie?"  
Her mirth subsiding, Pyrrha regarded the Faunus with a surprised, almost wistful look.  
"A movie? Good gracious, I haven't been to a movie since I was twelve…" she said, her face falling as both boys stared at her with stunned expressions.  
"What?"

"Sheesh, P, do you do ANYTHING besides training and magazines?" Sun asked her, his voice disbelieving, "I thought you were just a dedicated student, but SHEESH!"  
"Also, good gracious?" Neptune echoed, "what are you, sixty? Hey, I'm kidding, kidding!" he said as she scowled at him. Then her face fell, distraught, as something occurred to her.

"But…wait…" Pyrrha said, as her face fell, "We can't go into town! I'll get mobbed by my fans as soon as I show my face!"

"Your fans?" Sun said as he cocked an eyebrow. Neptune, however, mimicked Pyrrha's expression.

"As much as I wouldn't mind the local ladies knowing I'm friends with Pyrrha Nikos…" he said, "She's right. You saw her face all over that Dust goods store we walked past, man. We'll be dodging her adoring mobs all day."

"So what should we do?" Pyrrha asked, feeling disappointment creeping up on her…all this, and now at the last moment it would all be spoiled…!  
Then, Sun brightened up.

"I've got an idea." He said "if the mobs are looking for Pyrrha Nikos…"

He stood before Pyrrha, examining her hair as he walked around her, looking thoughtful. He smiled as an idea came to him and held out a hand to his blue-haired partner.  
"Neptune, you got one of those Bandannas's you carry?"

the Mistral native 'huffed' at his partner as he crossed his arms.  
"They're not Bandanna's, they're ascots!"  
"Whatever! Just gimme one!" Sun groaned, rolling his eyes.

Sighing, Neptune reached into his jacket and withdrew a large square of Yellow fabric, a few shades darker than Pyrrha's dress. Handing it to Sun, the Faunus turned back to Pyrrha, a conspiratorial smile on his face.

"if the mobs are looking for Pyrrha Nikos… here, take off your headband..."

confused but willing to hear him out, Pyrrha slid her bronze headpiece out of her hair, letting her scarlet locks fall about her head and trail over her shoulders. Sun immediately started coursing his fingers through her long mane, fluffing out her locks and fiddling with her bangs. Pyrrha tensed as he worked, but didn't object. As Sun continued, Neptune slowly regained his smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I see what you're doing…" he said, a finger on his chin as he looked thoughtfully at the redhead. Turning his eyes to the bushes, he smiled.  
"These are yours, right?" he said as he stepped over to one of the shrubs, fingering a flowering vine.

"Y-yes" Pyrrha replied as she fidgeted slightly under Sun's fingers, "Goodness knows we haven't had this area worked on in years though."  
Neptune smiled at that.  
"Then I hope your folks don't mind if I borrow a few buds."

"I suppose not…" Pyrrha said "They don't even come out here anymore…I doubt they'd notice."

With a shining smile on his face, she watched him start to carefully strip one of the vines from the bush, making sure none of the buds fell off. As he did so, Sun began doing something with the bandanna, artfully tying it about the top of Pyrrha's head.

"Here, let me" he said to Neptune, as the teen finished removing the vine from the bush, the small yellow flowers within it undisturbed. Taking the vines from his partner and stepping back behind Pyrrha, she felt him working it into her hair where it trailed down her back. With a slight fluffing and some quick finger-combing, he swished her long mane over her shoulder and let it trail down her front.

"Like I said" Sun concluded as he held a hand out to Neptune, who produced a Mirror he used to check his hair and handed it to his partner, "If the Mobs are looking for Pyrrha Nikos…" he paused, opening the mirror and holding it up to Pyrrha's face

"…You simply need to stop being Pyrrha Nikos."

Pyrrha looked at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes widening as she took in her altered appearance.  
Her usual ponytail and bangs had given way to a tasteful weave that descended across her shoulders, held in place by the stems of the flowers Neptune had carefully stripped from the hedges. The yellow scarf held her hair tastefully back from her face while still hiding her eyes somewhat, giving her an almost homely look and accenting her dress perfectly. She put a hand to her mouth in surprise: she barely recognized herself.

"It's truly amazing what a simple change in hairstyle can do to a person." Neptune said as he smiled at Sun's handiwork.  
"I-Indeed…" Pyrrha said in awe, her fingers going to her lips, "...Is that really…me?"  
Her hands trailed through the weave of her scarlet hair, brushing over the flowers, feeling the loosened locks catch the breeze. Her shock gave way to a bright smile.  
"I-I…I like it!"  
She looked up at Sun in surprise.  
"Where did you learn to do this?"

The Faunus examined his fingernails casually as he replied.  
"Ah well. Personal grooming combined with old Vacuo traditional decoration teaches you a few things."

"It looks good on you, P." Neptune added, before he smiled wider.  
"Yeah…"P" how about we just stick with that." He said as he reached out and flicked a stray leaf from Pyrrha's hair, "No need to tip our hand after we've gone to all this effort."

"P…" Pyrrha said thoughtfully.  
She smiled a wide smile as she nodded at the two, the smell of the flowers mingling with the scent of Jaune's sweater to drive away her despairing mood.  
"Yes…I like that…"P."

In her purse, deactivated but still running, her Aura meter suddenly charged up full, and a surge of energy filled Pyrrha's body as she deftly sprang to her feet before the two boys, real delight filling her down to the depths of her soul.  
"Come on!" she said with a laugh, "Like you said, we're burning daylight!"  
Her two companions smiled broadly at her, even as silent conspiracy to help maintain Pyrrha's good mood filled both of their minds.  
Along with thoughts of another message they had yet to share with her…

"Well, lets go!" Sun said as he took Pyrrha's hand and guided her out of the bushes, "Rivienne awaits!"


	8. Chapter 7: History 101

_Requiem Camp, Northern Vale_

The polished Jackboots of Major Argent Shanmao thumped on the wooden duckboards of the camp's "sidewalks" as he marched briskly up the avenue towards the Command tent near the heart of the Requiem encampment. The "military' side of the compound was only moderately isolated from the main "township" portion of the camp, and had a slightly greater image of permanence: the prefabricated buildings with more resolute foundations, the power cables, water and sewage pipes, and communication hard-lines all being buried to prevent risk of damage, the arrival of medical equipment and setting up of a permanent hospital under Dr. Goldman's supervision (along with recruitment of more medical personnel from the refugees: a surprising number of professionals were among them, human and Faunus alike)

And, of course, fortifications, watchtowers and blockhouses that ringed the periphery of section, the "citadel" within the "castle" of the camp. There was ample room for the masses of refugees and civilians to shelter within the confined of the fortified area: on the flat plane of the Badlands, with their backs to the mountains, the Commander had no illusions about their ability to resist an active assault. While escape routes up treacherous passes had been dug…Shanmao was more comfortable to know this facility was not the be-all-end-all of Requiem's fortresses.  
and more comfortable still to know that there were more than the obvious escape routes to rely upon…

The Military side of the organization seemed to be building up well. Naturally Requiem had a defense force: he himself was part of it.

And with his rank in the Defense Forces, Shanmao would have to be blind to not see the crates of weapons and equipment that were starting to stack up in revetments and warehouses being built near the mines, putting all the removed rock and dirt to use. He had seen and even supervised new recruits, many of them youths barely out of or not quite old enough to enter the Huntsman Academies…and even a few who had walked those halls… and found themselves inadequate in some way or another.

Well…few societies could accept someone who had promised to be their "defenders" and failed to live up to the challenge…and so those poor youths fled here. Between the old Professionals the Commander had brought with him when he started on his path, deserters or retirees from the various militaries of the kingdoms and the flood of willing and eager personnel…Requiem had no concern of being left defenseless.  
The Major pondered a few of the more recent arrivals…several Academy washouts from Atlas, among them a young, chestnut-haired girl who'd needed minor medical treatment before she'd been able to volunteer…she and the others had told their horror stories about their abuse at the hands of the citizens of that thrice-damned "kingdom" and it had only increased the general hatred of Atlas that seemed to fill the camp like a cloud: those Atlesian youths had vocally renounced their Atlesian citizenship when they'd taken the Oaths of Defense to Requiem's cause. Equipping, training and arming with those accumulated weapons had followed.

The strange thing was…he'd overseen the unloading of the equipment the Commander had "acquired" from Schnee Dust: there had been no weapons among them. Certainly no crates that matched what he had seen.  
And the labeling on the weapon crates themselves was certainly not in any language he could read…but the Commander and his inner circle certainly could.

That the Commander had not seen fit to include Shanmao in those inner circle meetings….well, it bothered the blond Faunus, but not surprised him: he expected he was still in the doghouse over his fiasco of an operation on the Vacuo CCT Tower.  
He could only hope the Information he had acquired would prove to be worth the loss of face before his superior.  
Which was WHY, he hoped, he had been summoned before his superior…after he had been rescued by the Commander from an anti-faunus mob as a teen, he'd devoted every waking moment to his cause…to say he practically worshipped his superior be an overstatement... but not by much.  
Idly, the Faunus scratched at the marks that covered his face…his ears were hidden beneath the red Beret he wore as part of his uniform; those were easy enough to conceal.  
His face…that was another matter.

He'd been told by his grandfather than "Shanmao" was an old, pre-Vacuean word for "Ocelot" and had been his families' name as long as records held.  
Well, he certainly lived up to it.  
Most Faunus only bore one overt element of animal features, usually ears or a tail. Argent Shanmao…he was a genetic anomaly. An unlucky roll of the dice in the features lottery.

Not only did he bear the ears of a feline in addition to his regular human ears, but he also possessed the pattern of stripes and spots bisecting his pale face that would be so familiar on the large cat that his ancestors took their name from. He had been shunned even by other Faunus for his face: he supposed even the oppressed needed someone to oppress.  
but the Commander hadn't oppressed him, hadn't looked down on him for his face. The Commander had saved him.  
He still smiled as he recalled the words spoken to him, all those years ago, after his superior had pulled him into a hidden alcove out of sight of the mobs and led him out of the city with his group.

 _"but why me?" the teenager asked. The man who had saved him smiled from beneath his hood, placing a hand around the Faunus' shoulder.  
"because you're like us: someone who doesn't meet their demands. Someone who is shunned and scorned for something they have no control over. Someone that society thinks they need to hate…and that is unacceptable."_

Shanmao had pledged himself to the Commander's service on the spot, and served him with dedication ever since. He had nothing to go back to: his Grandfather had raised him, and was long dead, and he had no friends to look up or be worried about.  
He'd trained himself vigorously, pushing himself even harder than he'd needed to impress. He'd made friends here: others like him…the "marked" as they called themselves. Those who had been unlucky in that genetic roll of the dice. He's become a master shot with his twin revolvers, both of which he'd taken from an Atlesian officer who certainly no longer needed them…  
and his people in Vacuo of course respected him and looked to him as their leader…though he made sure to remind them that he, too, had a superior. Under no uncertain terms would he allow himself to garner more loyalty to himself than to the commander.  
And the Commander had rewarded his loyalty and devotion: when he had sought out someone to lead the growing Vacuo division of Requiem, Shanmao had been the first he'd selected.

the Faunus had silently bemoaned his loss of reputation with a straight face: he'd started at the bottom and worked his way up before. He would do so again if he had to.  
That the Commander hadn't sacked him on the spot only showed that he still had faith in the Faunus…right?

As he approached the command tent, reflexively responding to salutes from lower-ranked personnel, he heard muted shouting from within: despite its simple canvas exterior, it was in fact well-soundproofed and resistant to small-arms fire. A useful asset.

Stepping up to the entrance, he knocked on one of the support frames that held the structure in place.  
"identify" a clipped, annoyed voice called from within. Shanmao immediately recognized the voice of Commander Qray.  
"Major Argent Shanmao, reporting as ordered!" the Faunus replied briskly and without fuss. He stood at parade rest, awaiting the invitation to enter, as protocol demanded.

He caught the last few words from Qray's annoyed tone as she slid the tent flaps aside and appeared, her head turned back to face the Commander: clearly the source of her ire.  
"…it's still a mistake, if you ask me. Never mind trusting…HIM, with anything."  
"I said DISMISSED, Commander Qray." The voice of Commander Pyrrhos echoed from within the tent "you have your instructions. Carry them out."  
"yes SIR!" Qray replied as she turned away with a mocking Salute: Shanmao winced at the flagrant disrespect her tone carried. Qray was one of the few people in Requiem who dared to speak in such a way to the Commander.  
As she stalked past the Faunus, her heels clicking on the wooden planks, she motioned with a thumb into the tent.  
"He said you could go right in." she muttered as her eyes, full of anger, briefly flickered over the Major. He resisted the instinctive urge to flinch: her red eyes, surrounded by her black wing-pattern of eye-shadow, always reminded him of a Grimm too much for his liking.  
With the clicking of her heels echoing behind her, she stormed off up the avenue towards the communications center, leaving Shanmao to briefly watch her go before he turned and entered the tent.

"Major Argent Shanmao, reporting as ordered, sir!" Shanmao barked, snapping to attention and saluting as he whisked his beret off his head.  
the Commander said nothing, and Shanmao felt sweat bead on the back of his neck as he stood and observed his superior.  
Pyrrhos sat behind his desk, his chair turned to one side, his right arm resting casually on the arm rest while his left hand, clad in it's familiar black glove, was held up near his face, his fingers dancing as something flipped between them.

Shanmao could see that the commander was dressed in his full "uniform:" while he usually wore his familiar white trench coat over whatever happened to be available, at this moment he was dressed in a proper Military tunic, a deep forest green with embroidered black patterns, held closed with silver buttons and the high collar tight around his neck. He looked like an old Mistralian Skirmisher, which was likely where he'd gotten the tunic in the first place.

Shanmao couldn't help but notice how dashing he looked…but those thoughts were banished as the rest of the scene imprinted upon his psyche.

The lamps in the tent were turned down low, casting the shadows and light into stark contrast with one another. The commander's face was menacing under the low glow as he seemed entirely focused on the object in his hand. His expression was low, even, his mouth a flat line, his eyes shadowed by the stark lights.

Then, the Commander smiled.  
"Congratulations, Major." He said, continuing to idly flip the object in his fingers "your hunch was correct."  
Hope bloomed in Shanmao's chest, and he sucked in a breath before speaking.  
"then…sir, the drive, it had-?"

"yes" Pyrrhos replied, still not facing his subordinate, still keeping his eyes on the object in his hand.  
"thanks to your quick thinking, the information you acquired has moved our plans forward by…several years, at least."  
"I'm…I'm glad, sir."

"I like people who aren't afraid to act on a hunch, Major. That's why I pegged you for your position. While I wish you had contacted me with the details beforehand, I cannot fault your capacity for operational planning: with the timeframe you had, you and Lieutenant Sin managed to pull off an effective enough operation, if a little heavy-handed. And there's no direct proof we were involved."  
his eyes finally turned to his subordinate, a small flickering of a laugh in them.

"I'm glad that my faith in you wasn't misplaced. Thank you, Argent."

Shanmao couldn't hold back the overjoyed smile that came to his face.  
"I serve the cause of Requiem!" he barked, his voice swelling with pride as he snapped tighter to attention.  
"as do we all." Pyrrhos replied with a smile.

Shanmao relaxed ever so slightly, his smile unwavering.  
"then...sir, Personality Number one is-?"

Pyrrhos' face fell, and Shanmao saw his fists clench, almost shuddering. His face twisted in anger as he spoke, his voice laced with a mix of desperation and outrage.

"She is in the heart of our enemies…she is in grave danger…those fools don't even understand that they are leading her attackers-more of our enemies-straight to her…"

Shanmao's smile vanished…the list of Personalities were people who the Commander considered either important enough or enough of a threat to be kept under constant supervision. Personality Number one, at the very top of the list, was a young, brown-haired woman who was only identified as "the Maiden." Why she was so important to the organization…well, the Commander was entitled to secrets. Even from his inner circle.  
Seeming to calm himself, Pyrrhos sighed deeply, coughing for a moment as he looked back up at the Faunus, a smirk crossing his lips.  
"All sins forgiven, Major. You can pass that along to the lieutenant as well. "

Shanmao's smile flew back to his face: where his back able to go any straighter he expected his spine would pop.  
"Thank you sir!" the Faunus said proudly.

Pyrrhos smiled once more, a genuine smile like that between friends, before turning his attention back to the object in his hand, holding it between his thumb and middle finger. Now able to see it for the first time, Shanmao's brow furrowed in confusion.

"what… is that, sir?" the Faunus asked, as he looked closer at the object the commander was holding. At first glance, it looked like a dust crystal…but it wasn't a color he'd ever seen before.

the Crystal was a deep, seemingly infinite black, shot through here and there with streaks of a silvery-chrome element that shone in the lights of the lanterns that hung from the roof supports. Pyrrhos smirked as he resumed twirling it between his fingers. the black crystal glittered like a jewel as it spun between his digits.

"do you know why the Great War ended?"

Shanmao was caught off-guard by his superior's sudden question, and couldn't stop a 'huh?' from escaping his lips before his innate sense of decorum reasserted itself and he stammered a reply.  
"w-well, sir, everyone knows how it ended: the leaders of the four major kingdoms came together-"

"yes, yes, the Vytal treaty, I know that. That's not what I asked." Pyrrhos cut him off, still twirling the crystal. Shanmao looked at him, his confusion deepening.  
"I didn't ask HOW the Great War ended, Major. I asked WHY." Pyrrhos continued, finally turning one eye towards the Faunus. He scanned the Major's face, seeking any sign of insight.  
Seeing only confusion in the Faunus' expression, the Commander sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, the crystal spinning in the air between his fingers. He smiled a tired smile.  
"Tell me, Major, do you know why this area is called "the Badlands?"  
"no sir." Shanmao said, as he watched his superior idly twirling the crystal in his hands. Pyrrhos' smile deepened. Opening his eyes halfway, he turned his gaze to the map of Remnant that hung behind his desk: covered in the red pins of Requiem outposts and facilities, it served as more poignant a reminder of Requiem's purpose than any flag.

"at the Climax of the great war, when Vale and Mantle were at each other's throats in the last few months, hell, last few WEEKS before the Vytal treaty, one of the greatest battles of the whole affair was fought over this very land. It was horror beyond imagination: oh, you'll hear the stories, dashing cavalry charges, swordfights with Mantalian nights and Vale rangers, the great duels between flying fortresses…but in truth…it was a slogging, mechanized nightmare."  
he stopped twirling the shard abruptly, his eyes leaving the map and staring into the black crystal like he was searching it for imperfections…and peering deep into the past.  
"Miles upon miles of trenches and barbed wire and shell holes and mud, mud, MUD everywhere…not a tree or house or even fence post to be found still upright. Artillery fire turned this place into a greater rubble field than the moon. Even almost a century has not managed to wipe away the scars."  
Shanmao well knew of this. The area around the encampment was pock-marked with worn craters and patches of unnaturally straight cuts and ditches. Here and there one could even find scraps of the old wire, rusted and ragged, like poisoned vines.  
and of course the wrecked carcasses of the war machines both sides had used to try and outdo the other. The attempts to re-purpose and cultivate the land after the war had only resulted in a grisly "iron Harvest' of unexploded ordnance and abandoned equipment. Even now, the spring rains turned up fresh scraps of the nightmarish battle.

And of course the bodies. Those too were all too common.

"you might notice, however, that the land upon which we now stand, where we build our base…strange, isn't it, how this land, a perfect, 40-mile-wide circle of land, is…perfectly flat? No bumps, no elevations, even the cliff faces of the mountains unnaturally flat and featureless?"

Shanmao pondered his superior's words…now that Pyrrhos mentioned it…

"Those powers that be will tell you that the end of the war was brought about by people refusing to knuckle under to absolutism, to conformity and control."

"Frankly, that's a load of nonsense."

Pyrrhos resumed his idle twirling of the crystal in his hands as he spoke.

"No, major, what brought about the end of the Great War was the same thing that brought about the end to every war: the rulers, the ones who used those vast armies as their chess pieces, became more frightened of losing their own power than their control over what they were trying to claim as their own. They found themselves at a point where the wrong move would mean…Checkmate."

"and the tipping point of that fear…was the Incident."

Shanmao's brows furrowed in perplexity.

"the Incident" sir?" he parroted "sir, that is merely a legend…"

"all legends have a grain of truth in them, Major." Pyrrhos cut in, still twirling the crystal in his hands. He continued speaking as he began to idly toss it into the air and catch it in his palm.

Toss.  
Catch.

Toss.  
Catch.

"the Incident" as history has recorded it, was such: at the height of Vale's last major offensive, Operation _Nordwind_ , a push to take control of the valuable Dust mines in this area…"

Toss. Catch.

"…something, no one knows what, erupted in the largest explosion ever recorded in the history of mankind."

toss. Catch.

"ten thousand troops were obliterated in an instant."

toss. Catch.

"all their armor, all their weapons, all their spells…like tissue paper in a flame…gone, in a flash."

toss. Catch.

"the land was scarified, smoothed flat, reduced to glass."

toss. Catch.

"But what surprised people the most (Toss. Catch) wasn't that the explosion annihilated troops from both sides of the battle, leaving no indicator of just WHOSE weapon had done such an apocalyptic deed... no, what surprised them (Toss. Catch) more after the fact, really, was that the Grimm, who had been prowling the periphery of the battle, waiting for an opportunity to strike…fled."

Toss. Catch.

"fled, sir?" Shanmao asked, his eyebrows raising. Pyrrhos nodded as he continued his gestures.

"Fled, Argent. Like frightened puppies from a loud noise. Unheard of, isn't it? The Grimm, monsters that feed on Human terror and negative emotions…fleeing in fear of…something."

Toss. Catch.

"it was one of those things that science cannot explain…and like many things science cannot explain (toss. Catch.) it was thus buried and forgotten in the Euphoria of the end of the war."

toss. Catch.

"and all of it…the explosion, the energy…the grimm's terror…was because of this."  
With one final toss, Pyrrhos caught the dust shard between his thumb and forefinger, staring into it with a malicious grin. Holding it up for Shanmao to look at, he slowly turned the shard around like a display in a dust goods store, rotating it between his fingers. He had a dismissive tone to his voice as he continued speaking.

"All that talk about peace in our time, about the people fighting back against the darkness, against conformity and control...a load of bull, major. The war ended because of this simple, almost innocent material. This...and the fact that none of the warring factions knew that the others did not control it. And like all beings who fear the unknown, they, the self-made leaders, the chess masters and warlords, decided it would be wise to bide their time and wait for a better opportunity... and, of course, find out how to harness this strange new power themselves..."

Pyrrhos shrugged idly, tossing the shard into the air and catching it one last time.

"...and so, they sat down, put their toys away, and declared peace."

Shanmao's eyes went wider still at his superior's words, and he could not hide the disbelief in his voice as he spoke.

"sir...do you mean that...the Vytal treaty, the grounds for it, all that has grown from it, is built entirely on-"

"false pretenses, yes Major." Pyrrhos cut him off, his fingers squeezing tighter against the crystal.

Shanmao gulped as he observed his commander's behavior, and he stared nervously at the shard.

the Explosion that legend spoke of had been more powerful than any volcano, any bomb or reaction in mankind's recorded history…and if what Pyrrhos was saying was true…here he was tossing this thing casually like a chase ball…!

"calm yourself, Major. This mere shard, cut, shaped and formed by ancient hands, is perfectly safe." Pyrrhos said, as though sensing the Faunus' terror.

"s-sir." Shanmao stuttered. Pyrrhos chuckled in amusement as he brought the shard to his own face, staring through it like a monocle.

"yes…it's the unrefined material we have to be wary of…I wonder…what errant shell or sudden energy burst unearthed the vein that had grown from the chamber…unleashed the chaos contained within this deceptively pleasant material? And indeed, what about it drives the Grimm to such heights of fear that they cannot help but flee from its presence? "

for a long moment, the two men were silent as they pondered the secrets of the tiny, almost frail shard, and Shanmao digested the information the Commander had given him.  
After what seemed like minutes, Pyrrhos sighed, wistfully.  
"I suppose we'll never truly know."  
Shanmao looked over his superior, the man to whom he owed so much and had devoted his life to…this man who had treated him like he was actually worth something, and who, despite everything, had never lost faith in him…  
…and like others, seemed to notice how…tired, he looked.

"you are returning to Vacuo." The Commander suddenly said, his almost wistful tone that had carried throughout his lecture disappearing beneath his brisk tone of command.  
He rose from his chair as he carefully set the crystal down on his desktop, and continued speaking as he stepped around the desk and placed a hand on Shanmao's shoulder.

"you are to contact Nebula's team, and tell them that Operation Maiden's Sight is a go. Report to Commander Qray: she will brief you on further details. "  
"understood, sir." Shanmao said, snapping to attention. The Commander smiled at him as he continued speaking.

"after that…you are returning here… Oh, don't look so disappointed. This isn't a demotion."  
"sir?"

Pyrrhos lifted his hand from his subordinate's shoulder, turning and meshing his hands behind his back as he looked over the large map that dominated the wall behind his desk. He seemed to be pondering every pin-every Requiem facility-individually.

The multitude of dots and pins were by and large a true representation of the power of human will…and the impotence of the powers that claimed to hold the only means of Human survival.

"Commander Qray will be departing for a long-term mission in the coming weeks…and I will need someone to replace her as commander of the Vale Division…someone I can trust."

Shanmao's eyes widened as Pyrrhos continued, fixing his emerald gaze on his subordinate.  
"you will need time to adjust to your new surroundings and be briefed on your new responsibilities. _Captain_ Sin and _Major_ Zanna will be taking over operations in Vacuo."

"s-sir!" Shanmao stammered, before a determined smile came to his face and he snapped a salute to his forehead "Sir, I accept, sir! I won't let you down!"  
Pyrrhos turned, a genuine smile on his face as he nodded respectfully.

"very good, Major. You are Dismissed: Go and meet up with Qray…if she's through dismantling the communications center to ease her rage…"  
Shanmao managed to keep the open laugh in his throat limited to a snorted chuckle as he turned to depart the tent.

"as for me, I depart for Atlas tonight."

Shanmao stumbled, almost losing his footing as he whirled to face his commander, his eyes widening in fear.  
"Atlas?! Sir, you can't, it's far too dangerous!"

"I must." Pyrrhos replied, as, leaning on his desk, he scooped the shard back into his hand and cupped it in his gloved left palm, staring at it.  
"I have a debt to fulfill, information to recover, and a contact to meet up with. I can't risk our few agents in Atlas by having them do this. I must go. Alone."  
Shanmao turned to fully face his superior, his hands tense, as though he were resisting the urge to reach out and shake Pyrrhos' shoulders. He assumed-correctly-that this must have been the cause of Qray's ire.

"but sir…going into the heart of our enemy? That which represents the greatest threat to mankind since the Great War itself?"

"it must be done." Pyrrhos replied, looking up from the shard and straight into the Major's eyes. the Faunus could see a sudden surge of energy in those jade eyes, surrounded by lines and bags of exhaustion, as his Commander continued speaking.

"we have been hiding in the brush for too long, scattered and making pinprick attacks against the system. These have served to annoy, provoke, and have garnered us allies and made us known to the world…but if the great change is to come, something more…drastic, must be done. Thanks to the information you provided us, Major, plans that I had honestly feared I would not live to see fulfilled are now just beyond our grasp."

He turned, looking over his shoulder at the Map, with the scattered pins and dots…pins and dots all over Remnant.

Pins and dots representing the great change that was Humanity's destiny…humanity's birthright…

Pyrrhos squeezed his gloved hand closed around the crystal, hard enough that the leather creaked.

"it's time we started closing ranks."

[=]

The seaside town of Rivienne, a few miles from the Nikos estate as the Qrow flies and JUST outside enough of Mistral proper to be considered its own township, had long been known as a getaway for summer holidays to escape the hustle and bustle of the city. It's position, on a plateau sloping down towards the sea, helped keep it safe from Grimm attacks on the landward side, though seaborne attacks were more common in the deeper waters beyond the harbor markers.  
With a pair of binoculars one could JUST see the major Naval base of Port Marseilles on the horizon, one of the few active military bases Mistral maintained in the aftermath of the Great War. The gray hulls of the battleships and aircraft carriers of the fleet saw more action as parade icons than as active military weapons these days.

This early in the season, the beaches were still relatively empty except for the town's natives and a few early vacationers, so the three teens were unhurried as they walked casually up the main street. It was wide, lined with parking places for cars and at least four lanes of traffic, as well as pre-painted outlines for the elements of the summer festivals that surrounded Mistral Day, still a few weeks off.

Pyrrha stared around in delight at the scenery. She hadn't been to Rivienne in years: the family usually took their one-week Holiday at Spartacus' summer home on the northern shore of the bay round which the main city was built. Aside from a brief journey into town for a photoshoot in her second year at Sanctum, a brief hour not worth recalling, this was her first time since her childhood.  
"it's all just as I remember…" she said wistfully, clasping her hands before her as she looked over the town's soft-colored shops and cafes, the cottages in the distance, the smell of the sea filling her nostrils, the breeze catching her flower-decorated hair. Neptune smiled at her with a cocked eyebrow as he swished a hand through his own blue locks, trying to keep them stylized in the wind.

"I still can't believe you haven't been here since you were ten." He said, shaking his head. Pyrrha sighed herself as she paused to stare into a trinket shop, her smile growing as some of the curios caught her eye.

"It's been so long since I just…stopped!" she said, her voice full of an uncommon delight, even a touch of innocence. Both boys shot looks at one another as she finally continued walking.

"we'll make sure to check out everything that's worth checking out then." Sun said, even as Neptune's concerned look mirrored his own: Pyrrha's confession in the bushes before they'd come into town, to say nothing about the rude behavior of her mother and what they'd heard her shouting about before they'd made their presence known at the house, had made it abundantly clear to them what Pyrrha had needed "help" about…even if she herself didn't-or perhaps, wouldn't-acknowledge or admit it.

The redhead's happy expression-happier than either boy had ever seen her, in fact- as she stopped once more, this time in front of a clothing shop, only served to show how much she'd been trying to escape.  
As they passed a Dust Goods store, they also knew how effective their camouflage attempts on Pyrrha were as they skirted a crowd of teens gushing over a life-size cardboard cutout of the redhead, in full armor and posed heroically.

Well, even if it was only for one day, they'd do their best to make sure it was a good one: Neptune felt he owed it to Jaune, who had given him the confidence to finally talk to Weiss, that he keep an eye on the girl the wiry blonde was clearly interested in…even if Jaune and Pyrrha both seemed too adorably awkward to actually admit it.

Sun simply didn't like seeing his friends in a bad mood, so he was willing to go the extra mile to help out and make sure Pyrrha had a good time and got to sit back and enjoy some of the pleasures of life... and, considering what he knew about her, there was a great deal she had missed.  
speaking of which…

"Alright!" Sun declared "There's the theater!"  
the three looked up at a large building that appeared as they rounded a corner onto a side street. The movie theater, while not as massive as the multiplexes that were in the heart of the city, was nevertheless a monolithic structure compared to the buildings around it. A bored-looking clerk stood in the ticket booth as the three walked towards the doors, looking over the feature posters.

"aw man, I hope they've got the new Jade Bond movie." Sun said as they glanced up at the images, projected in holograms on the walls.  
Pyrrha let her eyes travel over the posters, taking in the titles and actors: she was bothered, for a moment, by the realization that she'd never heard of many of the actors names that showed up, nor had she heard of any of the titles.

As she pondered the selections, she found her thoughts traveling back to long ago...being in Rivienne was digging up long-buried memories of a happier past...

[=]

 _"Here you go, little firesprite."_  
 _The three-year-old Pyrrha looked up from where she and Jaden were happily building a sandcastle-she was more slapping at the sand, really, making a vague, hill-like shape- to see her Great Uncle standing above her, holding out some sort of formless tan blob wrapped in a napkin and covered in white powder. Her toddler's instincts as regarded new things immediately kicked into high gear at the sight of the strange object._

 _"whaddis it?" she asked, even as Jaden's own eyes widened happily beside her._  
 _"oh yessss!" he said as he reached past Pyrrha to take the twin of the object, held towards him by Spartacus, into his hands. He smiled at Pyrrha's skepticism as she peered out from under her massive sun hat._

 _"Try it, Pyrrha!" he said as, to the toddler's horror, he BIT the strange blob, a small trail of grease and powder running from the sides of his mouth as he happily munched. Everything she'd been told about not putting strange things in her mouth screamed at her to slap the object out of his hands._

 _"It's called Fried Dough, sweetie." Spartacus said as he sat beside the two youths, producing a third such blob and beginning to chew on it himself "it's a sweet, dear, you'll like it, trust me!"_  
 _The toddler looked up, eyes wide, at his words, as another oft-drilled lesson came to the front of her mind._

 _"but Gus, Mama doesn't like it when I have sweets..." Pyrrha said with as much worry as a three-year-old's voice could muster. Her Great uncle scoffed as he reached under Pyrrha's hat to twirl one of her scarlet bangs in his finger. Despite herself, the action elicited a giggle as her hair tickled her face._  
 _"what is childhood for but having sweets?" Spartacus said with a chuckle in his voice "enjoy yourself, Pyrrha! There'll be plenty of time to fuss over healthy eating once you start training."_  
 _Pyrrha still felt uncertain even as she giggled. Even if it wasn't as terrible as it looked (an impossibility, to her mind) what if her mother found out, or-?_

 _"Here, just try a piece." Jaden said as he tore off a chunk of his own blob, covered in the white powder and dripping slightly, and handed it to Pyrrha, who, urged on by her brother's smile, took it with the hesitation of someone taking a poisonous bug into their hands._

 _The piece indeed looked like something a bug would leave behind after you stepped on it, all drippy and messy, and she stuck out her tongue in disgust._  
 _"come onnnnn..." her brother drew out "would I lie to you?"_

 _well, he had a point there. And, as she could see, her Brother and Great uncle were both enjoying their own blobs...and clearly not keeling over from some unworldy poison.._

 _Slowly, tortuously, she opened her mouth and gently put the piece on her tongue. Closing her lips, she began to chew, her eyes closed tightly, not sure what to expect._

 _Needless to say, the last thing she expected was an explosion of delightful sweetness. The dripping liquid and the white powder suddenly turned into soft, warm grease and pleasant sugar in her mind's perceptions, and the taste of cinnamon, a rare experience, came to the front of her mind._  
 _Her eyes opened wide and a smile split her face as she chewed, to the delight of her two companions._

 _"I think she likes it." Jaden said with a barely-restrained laugh in his voice as Pyrrha's hands came to her lips and she licked away the grease and sugar that had gotten on her fingers. She looked almost manic as her delighted face turned to her uncle, the source of this amazing thing that tantalized her taste buds.  
_  
 _"more! more!" she begged as the last of the piece vanished down her throat. She seemed to catch herself suddenly, and, to the amusement of the two males, folded her legs under her like a refined lady and, hands in her lap and beaming up at Spartacus, politely asked "more, please?"_

 _Unable to contain himself, Spartacus burst into roaring laughter as he held out the blob he'd offered the child before. With a wink, he let Pyrrha take it and, allowing Jaden to pull her into his lap with a chuckle, begin hungrily devouring it. the old man smiled adoringly down at the two children in his care as Pyrrha happily forgot her mother's firm directives against sweets of any kind._

 _"Our little secret, eh kids?"_

[=]  
"oh YES!" Neptune's excited voice suddenly cut into her thoughts, and, leaving the pleasant memory behind, she whirled her head to see him gushing over one of the "now playing 'posters, his face lit up like the neon sign overhead.  
"oh yes, yes, YESSS!" the blue-haired teen squealed, almost hopping in excitement. Sun and Pyrrha both looked up at the poster that had him so enthralled, and the Faunus' jaw almost hit the ground in disbelief.

" _Dust in the Wind?"_ Aw, c'mon Nep!" he moaned "you said we could see an action movie!"  
the blue haired head of his partner took on an expression of vexation as he turned to the Faunus.  
"Sun… our lives are an action movie…" he drew out, as he glanced at Pyrrha with a face that all but screamed 'can you believe this guy?' She smiled before pondering the poster the two boys were speaking of.  
"what's it about?" Pyrrha asked as she looked up at the holographic image. a Male cat Faunus and a Female Human, both appearing little older than herself, were entwined in each other's arms. The pair was overlaid over a fierce, stylized set of Grimm eyes, while in the foreground a smaller figure, a Female cat Faunus roughly the same age as the couple, looked out of the picture with a menacing glare.  
Neptune brightened up at her interest, and immediately launched into a summary that clearly showed he'd seen the film before.

"oh! It's a remake of a movie that came out right before the Faunus Rights Revolution! Two young nobles meet at an attempted peace negotiation and develop feelings for one another, only for their romance to be torn apart by the growing hatreds between humanists and Faunus extremists!"

"he loves these sappy Romance movies." Sun whispered in Pyrrha's ear. Neptune scowled at his partner, who ignored it with a smile.  
Pyrrha looked at the two with a skeptical expression.

"this isn't one of those movies meant to make people cry, is it?" she asked. She'd always found films and books like that to be depressingly cheesy… and for goodness' sake, who WANTED to make themselves cry? She was all for a good romance novel every now and then…more often NOW than then, but still, there was a point where you went from "eliciting an emotional response" to "deliberately making you sad" that she found many stories crossed all too easily.

To say nothing about how the projected romances in the movies, with the two star-crossed lovers falling head-over-heels for each other at first sight, never worked out in real life…

Neptune stared with stars in his eyes at the poster as he replied.  
"it's a passionate story, P, full of action-though clearly not enough for SOME people-intrigue, drama, romance and, okay, yes, a few tearjerker scenes, but-!"  
"I'm with Sun." Pyrrha said flatly.

Neptune's expression collapsed like a house of cards while Sun smirked and nodded as he crossed his arms triumphantly.  
"Told you she'd be an action movie type." He said smugly as Neptune fell to his knees, as though a tragic rainstorm had erupted around him.

"oh miserable bravado!" Neptune cried dramatically "that would seek to tear us from the sweet bosom of passionate emotion, and cast us, unwittingly, into the infinite pits of mind-numbing violence!"

"you sure you didn't take acting at Sanctum, man?" Sun asked with a cocked eyebrow as Pyrrha looked down at the teen, her expression uncertain.  
"um…I'm sorry, Neptune, I didn't mean to-"

"oh Dust, P, Don't-!" sun began to cut in, when Neptune suddenly looked up from his crumpled position, staring directly into her eyes.

"oh, P, I promise you, this story is more than just emotional fodder for the unwitting tween! It is a beautiful tale, of how love conquers all regardless of past, culture or race! It has great drama and driving plots and…oh Dust how I've wanted to see it! I promise you'll love it!"

Behind him, Sun thumped his head against the wall of the theater in frustration…he knew full well where this was going to go…and that somehow he was going to get caught in it.

Pyrrha couldn't help but feel slightly guilty as she looked down at Neptune's expression, huge, emotional eyes full of sadness and disappointment, his lower lip trembling theatrically…

ah, fear of disappointing people…one of her surprisingly many weaknesses.

"well…alright" Pyrrha said, before brightening slightly as she looked up at the multiplex "it's just a movie, after all, how bad can it be?"


	9. Chapter 8: Down in Rivienne, Part 1

The sun hung low over the beach at Rivienne, casting the sky into a pale orange glow that lit the horizon as far as the eye could see. The light flowed over the beachfront cottages, the sand and rocks, and the fishing boats and pleasure craft pulled up onto the shore.

On one of these overturned boats, an old wooden craft painted in faded red and white, Sun Wukong leaned casually, a piece of beach grass held in his lips as he squinted at the distant horizon, the sight of freighters in the far ocean distance, the seabirds wheeling about in the light breeze. He dug his bare toes into the sand, letting the warmth surround them as he stared introspectively at the distance.

The sound of screeching tires came to the Faunus' ears as he pondered the sky, and he turned his head casually as a group of people suddenly came running towards him. Higher up on the road above the beach, he could see several vans, News station logos painted on their sides and bedecked with antennae and television cameras waiting, the rumble of their idling engines carrying across the short distance.

"um, excuse me!" a blonde-haired woman that put the Faunus in mind of Professor Goodwitch asked as she skidded to a stop in the loose sand, her high heels burying themselves in the small dunes she created as the sun flashed off her glasses "hi, excuse me, you wouldn't happen to have seen a redheaded girl in a black sweater around here, would you?"

Sun pondered the woman and her followers with a raised eyebrow. The three men with her carried portable cameras and microphones, as though they were preparing to conduct an interview. The woman herself wore a stylish skirt suit with suntan pantyhose, the purple color of the suit and the glasses perched on her nose only reinforcing the mental connection to the Beacon Headmistress.

"can't say I have." He said casually as he spit out the grass in his lips "why, something up?"

the Reporter hobbled for a moment on the loose, uneven ground, before she seemed to throw professionalism to the wind and slipped her feet out of her dark violet shoes, grabbing them up as she continued.

"well, apparently a little girl who was hanging for her life off the old town Clock tower was saved by none other than the famous Pyrrha Nikos earlier today." She said as she shook the sand from her pumps "we were hoping she'd be willing to provide a word or two, but she ran off before we could we could approach her."  
Sun cocked an eyebrow at that: the reported sounded surprised by Pyrrha's actions, as though she expected a famous person to bask in such attention.

"not gonna lie." he said, gesturing towards the vans on the road "I'd probably be more inclined to run if I saw a bunch of panel vans bearin' down on me."  
"we simply wanted to ask her about what she was doing in town!" another voice among the group asked "and if there was any truth to the rumor that she had suffered a nervous-OOF!"  
The voice cut off with the sound of someone being elbowed in the stomach, as Sun shook his head.  
"sorry, can't say I've seen her. Haven't spotted many redheads in general in these parts."

The reporter, her shoes under her arm, seemed disappointed.  
"Well, if you happen to see someone that fits the description, could you give us a call?" she asked, as she pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to the Faunus, who took it with the reluctance of someone with better things to do. He suddenly looked thoughtful, as though he were remembering something.  
"Actually…now that I think about it, I DID-actually spot a tall chick in a black sweater over by Starland." He remarked, pointing off towards the distant lights of the Amusement park that stood on a pier on the far side of town "she had a hood up, so I couldn't see her hair."  
The reporter perked up at that, and a murmur went through her crew.

"Her hood up, eh…like she was trying to hide her hair… Alright, thanks for your time!" she said, before gesturing to her crew, who quickly spun and headed back up the beach. As they went, Sun watched the reporter berate one of her cameramen, who held up his hands defensively: apparently he was the blabbermouth who'd spoken out of turn.

As they climbed back into their vans, Sun's expression became clouded with annoyance. He spat into the sand as the vehicles drove off.

"Yeah, like I'm gonna help you guys violate my friend's privacy." Sun remarked under his breath as he flipped the card down into the sand.

He watched, silently as the vehicles departed, waiting several moments after their taillights had gone out of sight around the corner at the end of the road.

Finally, assured they were not going to return right away, he reached down and rapped on the side of the boat a few times.  
"coast is clear." He said, with a sigh of relief in his voice.

From underneath the overturned boat, two sets of fingers appeared: one a dusty tan with black fingerless gloves, the other thin and feminine. As Sun slid off the boat, he added his own hands to theirs; lifting the overturned hull up enough to allow the people to whom the fingers belonged to slither out into the evening light.

"That was a near thing." Neptune said as he brushed himself off, ignoring his tousled necktie and shirt stained with brown spots, before turning to help Pyrrha stand.  
The redhead looked a sight: her hair was mussed and had lost most of the flowers Sun had wound into her weave, her cheeks were covered in smudged painted-on stars and suns, the left shoulder strap of her dress hung over her chest, the front of the sunny yellow garment was covered in dirt and dust, her pantyhose had more holes than solid fabric, she wore Sun's sneakers, her own flats nowhere to be seen, and she favored the leg that had cramped earlier that morning, letting it hang lightly as she leaned on the blue-haired teen for support.

"I'm so sorry about this, guys." She sighed as she let Neptune lower her into a sitting position on the boat hull, grabbing Jaune's sweater from where it lay in the sand.

She stared despairingly at the hoodie, fingering the shredded ruin that was all that remained of the left arm. She sighed once more as she held the garment close, as though she were clutching at it's blonde owner-and oh how she wished she were...

"I never thought the day would turn out like this…"

[=]

 _Several Hours Earlier_

"…I just can't believe they'd use such a hateful word in the TITLE of the film. I mean, children might see that poster! What are they going to think?"

"hey, I'm not arguing, P."

Pyrrha took another sip from her iced tea, tapping her foot in irritation on the base of the table where she and her companions were sitting. She cast another scornful glare at the poster that was the source of her ire, and the offensively cartoonish image below it.  
"I mean, "Furries?" really? That's supposed to be a pro-Faunus film?" she huffed, looking away from the giant animated green eyes of the Cat Faunus that was apparently the main character. The obscenely large eyes made her feel…skeevy.

She, Neptune and Sun sat in a picnic area across the street from the theatre, chatting about some of the other posters hanging on the walls. The early afternoon sun shone down on them from overhead, though the air still carried a touch of chill from the sea breezes wafting up the road.  
The area was relatively empty: meant to service the nearby beach and the assortment of eateries around the theater that lacked the space for their own seating, it held a number of decorative tables for people to sit and eat around after they'd purchased their food.

Pyrrha cocked an eyebrow at her Faunus companion as she stirred the mixing stick around in her tall paper cup.  
"I'm honestly surprised you're not more upset." She commented as she twirled the small plastic stick around, whipping the lemon pieces and ice cubes into a small tempest in the amber liquid.  
Sun sipped from a paper teacup held in his tail as he shrugged nonchalantly.  
"You don't get far in life letting every little thing upset you, P. I learned that early on."  
He nodded his head towards the theater across the street.  
"take that fiasco of a movie for an example: that was more a comedy than the high drama SOMEONE made it out to be."  
Pyrrha couldn't help but wince at Sun's words as she turned her gaze to their third companion, who was aimlessly sipping at a coffee of his own.

[=]

Neptune had sat, tears falling like a waterfall, amongst a gaggle of teenage girls and their bored-looking dates, completely enraptured by the "romance" on the screen.  
Would be that it had-remotely-lived up to his glowing praise? Pyrrha might as well have wished for Jaden or Jaune to fly down on a piece of the moon.

Well, Pyrrha'd been unsure about " _Dust in the Wind_ " going in, though willing to give it a chance for Neptune's sake. Settling down between Sun and Neptune in the seats of the theatre-so new they still smelled of fresh leather-she'd nibbled at the gratuitous bucket of popcorn Sun had bought while waiting for the film to start.

The loud, orchestral overture and the brief historical narration of the events that led to the story-a brief history of the period leading to the Faunus Rights Revolution- had made her hopeful that there might be something to Neptune's star-lined review. She'd always been an avid student of history, which she'd tried-with limited success-to impart onto Jaune.

Her hopes for entertainment had been dashed, however, the moment the first pathetic "fight scene" had come up.

The swordfight between two of the main characters, to the untrained eye, looked grandiose and expertly fought. The male Faunus and a Male Human, apparently the girl from the poster's brother, had danced and pirouetted around a town square in what looked to be a duel to the death to the fearful gasps of the audience, Neptune included.

To Pyrrha's eye, with her own sword training, all she had seen were two people whacking prop swords together, putting on an elaborate show while deliberately trying NOT to stab their opponent. Indeed, it was clear the two on the screen had had little fencing practice before the filming began. She'd almost laughed aloud, and Sun hadn't even bothered to hide a dismissive snicker: he could see it too.

The Faunus had whispered in her ear that such behavior was called "Flynning" after classic actor Emerald Flynn, who had seemingly invented the tactic, most of which consisted of deliberately aiming for the opponent's sword instead of the actual opponent: the better to prevent injury. It looked fancy, to be sure, but had nothing to do with actual fencing, never mind a real sword fight.

But Pyrrha's amusement at the fakeness of the dueling had taken a backseat to the sheer unreality of the "romance" the two leads had shared. Not only was it dull, to the point of sleep-inducing (she'd actually yawned, to her embarrassment) it had heated her under the collar for reasons she kept very, very private.

Two young adults, falling head over heels for each other at first sight, no building period, no getting to know each other, just professing their feelings almost immediately on a balcony, only for them to be torn apart by their hateful parents?

The young woman, losing her love in another "grand" duel, somehow immediately rebounding and leading a movement of defiance against her father to free the oppressed Faunus of the kingdom? No apparent grief beyond a single scene of tears, no loss of hope?

The over-the-top lines, the poetic speech patterns, the complete lack of anything awkward between the two?

Pssh. What nonsense.

No one knew, of course, but Pyrrha had a secret passion for romance novels and the like, where the seemingly disillusioned female lead would find a partner that somehow broke through her veneer of indifference and wormed their way into her heart through either their charm or their personality.  
Long nights of her teenage years had been spent curled under her blankets, reading one of the novels stashed in her hope chest by flashlight, her favorite stuffed wolf clutched in her arms (another "childish" trifle she refused to be permanently parted from, even if it remained hidden in her hope chest more often than not…but Wolfy was so SOFT…) as she'd explored an almost unreal world beyond that of combat, that at times seemed more like a fairy tale than the fanciful stories she'd been read as a child.

Needless to say, these days Pyrrha had one person in mind when she thought of someone worming their way into her heart with their personality. She'd hunched Jaune's sweater up around her face at the sudden chill as she had exited the theater, and let the scent of the blonde fill her senses...not bothering to suppress the blush that came to her cheeks.

No, indeed, Romance didn't work that way…a year and a half of trying to make a certain blonde dork notice her hadn't produced any discernible results…yet.

Though the dance had seemed…promising…

To Pyrrha's surprise, Neptune shrugged idly at his teammate's jab.  
"Not my fault if you don't appreciate classic romance, Sunnysides" the blue-haired Mistralian smirked around his own coffee.  
Despite the shared opinion of his companions about the movie, Neptune seemed…surprisingly casual, about the whole thing. Pyrrha knew she'd certainly have been far more upset if her favorite film were so casually dismissed. Indeed, her companion had appeared more downcast after their initial reactions to the film's conclusion. Of course, she had a habit of being surprisingly easy to upset, so that was something.  
"if I may be so bold…" Pyrrha said hesitantly "I-HAVE-seen better…"  
Neptune shrugged at her.  
"I am Sorry, P. I did think you'd like it. You wanna see something else?"

"oh no, no." Pyrrha said quickly, waving her hands before Neptune could suggest another "romance" "if I've only got this one day out, I'd rather spend it" she gestured to the open air of the town around them "…well, out."  
"fair enough." Neptune said with a shrug, and Sun nodded agreement. Pyrrha breathed silently in relief to herself: she was genuinely afraid she might say something to upset her newfound friends. Turning her attention back to her iced tea, she continued speaking.  
"I guess I'm just not really into modern Romance…or remakes. I prefer the classics." The redhead remarked as she stirred her drink.  
Neptune perked up at that, his smile brightening as he digested Pyrrha's words.  
"classics, eh? Like what?"

Sun groaned, mentally detaching himself from the conversation as Pyrrha's face brightened. She was always up for talking about her favorite subjects, and the thought of talking about something NOT having to do with school or combat was refreshing indeed. Mentally reminding herself not to go off on a tangent, she ticked off on her fingers as she recounted some of her favorite films.

"well, there's _The Mission to Menagerie_ …"  
Neptune's smirk grew wider.  
"An underappreciated tale indeed. Smoke Connery played the Viceroy quite well" He quipped, closing his eyes as he took a drink from his coffee. Pyrrha nodded eagerly as she continued.

" _The Wind and the Beowulf_ , _The Sands of Vacuo_ …oh, but…" she said with a wistful smile "… my favorite was _The Summer of Roses_ , definitely."

Neptune smiled almost dreamily at her last statement, while Sun seemed on the verge of falling asleep again.  
"Ah, _The Summer of Roses_." The Havenite remarked "A classic literary tale, to be sure."  
Pyrrha cast a quizzical expression towards her comrade as he took another drink.  
"I'm talking about the movie, though."

Neptune's eyes popped open as he started in surprise, gulping down a huge slug of his beverage. His eyes bugged out as he suddenly choked.

Pyrrha leapt to her feet, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, as Neptune grabbed his throat, gasping for breath as his coffee cup splattered to the table surface, spilling its contents all over. His sudden rise to his feet jerked the table, spilling his companion's drinks to the ground.  
"Neptune?!" Pyrrha gasped, rushing to his side and patting him vigorously on the back as Sun snapped out of his torpor in surprise "Neptune, what is it? come on, breathe!"

the Blue haired teen managed to start sucking in air as Pyrrha administered to his back, turning his gaze, his eyes bloodshot and wide, to the redhead who was tending to him.  
"what is it, what did I say?" she asked worriedly as she grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at the coffee that now stained the front of Neptune's shirt. He continued staring at the redhead, disbelief in his eyes. The blue-haired teen leaned on the table, drawing deep breaths as Pyrrha tried to clean him up.  
"Nep?" Sun asked, a touch of genuine concern in his voice "dude, you alright?"  
"here, hold on." Said Pyrrha as she started to turn away, grabbing a few more napkins "I'll go wet some of these, we can still get that stain-"  
Pyrrha reared back in surprise as Neptune suddenly grabbed the front of her sweater, pulling himself close-far too close- to her face. He seemed manic as he stared directly into her eyes.  
"N-Neptune?" she stammered worriedly, wondering if she'd need to defend herself.

Sucking in a few more breaths, Neptune finally managed to speak, his voice ragged and thick with exertion.  
"You…You've seen the movie?"

[=]

"YOU OWN A COPY?!"

a fresh Ice tea in her hands and seated at a dryer table, Pyrrha nodded at Neptune's stunned expression as she spoke.  
"My Great-Great Grandmother was one of the editing assistants on the film: she managed to sneak a full cut, including deleted scenes, out of Mantle before the hatchet brigades burned the studio down." She took a casual drink from her tea, smiling at her companions "I knew the movie was rare, certainly, but I never knew it was "lost."

As she took another sip, she thought back to the film that so enraptured her friend…and indeed, herself, despite having seen it over and over.

 _The Summer of Roses_ , a film so old it was black and white, was one of Remnant's oldest tales, going back to the time of the Pre-Kingdom era.

A young woman by the name of Rose, born to prosperity and blessed with great skill, seeks to use her abilities to protect the world and those she loves. She and her dearest friends embark on a quest to seek out and destroy the monsters that menace the kingdoms and avert a great war that threatens to tear the thin grasp humanity has on the world asunder. Friends are found and lost, great powers are unleashed, and the hope in the heart of humankind is pushed to the limit.  
Along the way, the girl finds that her abilities are not the sum total of herself, learning much about her own desires and her own soul beyond the fields of battle where she excels. With the support of her friends, she overcomes the darkness and, while the story doesn't have a "perfect" ending, happiness is found in the most unlikely of ways.

Pyrrha found herself easily identifying with the heroine, a young woman who, while embracing her abilities in battle, was awkward and shy amongst her peers.  
It gave her some small hope that she herself could find her confidence outside the field of battle…

Neptune was fanning himself with the flat of his hand, loosening his tie as he leaned back in his chair: he looked like he was about to slide out of it onto the ground, or start choking again. The coffee stains on his shirt were long forgotten.  
"and, all this time, you were NEVER AWARE… that this movie was literally ONE OF A KIND… and you have an original, uncut copy on DIGITAL DISK….sitting…in…your hope chest." He breathed in amazement.  
"Mm-hmm" Pyrrha hummed around her glass as she emptied her drink.

Neptune's brief-and very, very, VERY rapidly explained-lecture as they'd moved to a new table had enlightened her to a more remarkable fact that she hadn't been aware of: While many versions of the story had been made, the quintessential "film" version, the one that was "the movie" was the pre-Great-War Era production by MantlePiece Studios, one of the last film companies in the Old Kingdom of Mantle to fall to the "anti-Art" crusade.  
And, it turns out, save for a few pictures and stills, the film had been thought lost forever.

Sun cocked an eyebrow at her, a smirk on his face as Neptune seemed to somehow sag deeper into his chair, a hand clapped to his forehead as he stared into the distance, disbelieving.  
"I think you just blew his mind, P" the Faunus remarked as he turned his bemused eyes to regard his partner.  
The redhead shrugged, feeling decidedly relieved that the tension of the past few minutes had ebbed.  
"I wasn't even aware it had such a following." Pyrrha went on as she set her cup down "I might ask my Uncle if he knows anything about it: it would be nice to let others see it if it's truly that popular."

"to say nothing of making you famous for something ELSE, P." Sun quipped as Neptune sat, almost hyperventilating. Pyrrha's face fell slightly at that.  
"well…" she said quietly "I suppose…"

"Famous Warrior brings long-lost film back into the world! Pyrrha preserves part of our past!" Sun said grandly as he leaned back in his chair, splaying out his hands like he was mentally visualizing a news headline.  
Pyrrha gave a small smile.  
"I suppose fame for something besides fighting would be nice…" she murmured.  
"hey I'm just kidding around!" Sun replied with a consoling shrug.

Pyrrha kept her smile up for his sake, shuddering slightly as memories of red carpets and news cameras filled her mind… of being poked and prodded by seamstresses and getting sewn into absurdly fancy gowns…

She sighed internally as she recalled how she'd humored her primary Seamstress, Madame Allura, by accepting the overdesigned to the point of absurdity gown that the woman had designed for her to wear to the dance. The Redhead had decided to wisely let the bag with her simple off-the-rack red gown remain in the car as she'd forced smiles and thank-you's and other false gratitude.  
She hated feeling like that: the woman and her staff had put hours of work in on what was essentially a gift, and she'd not even brought it to Beacon, never mind wore it to the dance: it still hung in a garment bag in her expansive walk-in closet.

Pyrrha was snapped out of her musing as Neptune suddenly stood, his back ramrod straight. His chair scraped across the concrete floor of the picnic area, almost toppling over with the speed of his stance.

"Nep?" Sun asked, as he started to rise himself "dude, everything-?"

With a swift, fluid motion, the Blue-haired teen turned to face Pyrrha, who began to rise herself.  
Before she could stand, however, Neptune knelt on one knee, his pose evoking the image of a knight bowing before his queen.

As Pyrrha regarded him with a quizzical expression, he reached out and slowly took her hands in his own, as though pledging an oath of loyalty, his eyes enraptured. When he spoke, his shaky tone was replaced with a deep, commanding resonance, a declaration that seemed to come from ancient tales.

"Pyr-…P, friend of friends, dearest of dears, glory of glories….i beseech you…allow me to gaze upon the resplendent splendor of this great, lost work! I would pay any price and climb any mountain! I would sail the deepest seas and fight the greatest of beasts!"  
Pyrrha's eyes widened in amazement.  
"Neptune, if you want to see the movie, you just need to-"

"Simply name your price, fair maiden, that I might immediately set afoot to seek it out and bring it to you! All I ask…is that you allow me to gaze upon that great, lost work!" Neptune carried on, lost in the moment.

"Oh…my…Dust…" Sun said as he collapsed back into his chair, facepalming as he slumped backwards with a groan.

Pyrrha's lips turned up in a smile, and she had to cover her mouth to hide the open laughter that threatened to break free. She idly wondered if any onlookers thought Neptune was proposing to her.  
"a-alright." She said with a grin, a giggle in her voice "you can (giggle) p-pay for lunch, then."  
"DONE!" Neptune barked.  
"and anything else we need today!" Sun shot from under his hand.  
"DONE!" he repeated.

With that, he leapt to his feet, booming out a "WAHOOO!" of triumph as he thrust his fists into the sky. To Pyrrha's eyes, it was as though he'd just been told he was graduating three years early, rather than that he'd be allowed to see an old movie.  
Then again, who was she to judge a person's passions? Maybe it meant-that-much to him. Goodness knew Jaune and Nora had deep passions for things she thought were a waste of time.  
Of course, they seemed to think some of HER passions weren't the best way to spend time either…

"I hope your wallet agrees with you, pal." Sun quipped as he leaned forwards to rest his elbows on the table.

"Be SILENT, you dullard!" Neptune commanded as he stuck a finger in the Faunus' face "I would NOT have you spoil this moment of greatness!"  
"I will-never-understand you, man." Sun replied.

"alright…" Pyrrha said, her laughter still in her voice as she held up her empty iced tea "you can start by getting me another drink…the movie popcorn was quite salty."  
"at once, Milady!" Neptune replied, leaping across the table and practically sprinting over to the tea stand. His companions watched him go for a moment, before turning their gaze to one another…and promptly bursting into full-bellied laughter.  
"y-you'd think…" Sun chortled "you'd t-think he'd just inherited ownership of Schnee Dust…."  
Pyrrha laughed until tears stung at her eyes, and she wiped at her emerald orbs with her hand as she tried to compose herself.  
"you two…" she giggled to Sun "are by far… the strangest boys I've ever met."  
"well." Sun said with a smirk, the sun glinting off his teeth for a moment "I shall take that…as a compliment, my fair lady."

"aaaaand BACK!" Neptune said as he appeared with a fresh drink, lemon wedge and all, and excitedly handed it to Pyrrha "one drink, ready and made to order! For YOU, madame, and for the glory of the film!"  
"We can watch it tonight back at my place, if you want." Pyrrha replied with a smile as she accepted the drink "I've got the big screen in the living room, and I'm sure we can scrounge up some…snacks…"

if either boy noticed the way she said "snacks," as though it were a word she rarely used, they didn't show it.

As Neptune slid back into his seat, Sun glanced at the tall clock tower in the center of town that was visible over the roof of the shops along the street. He cocked an eyebrow as he noted the time on the clock's round face: the old stone tower was one of the oldest still standing in the town, and the clock itself was powered by ancient gears and winding mechanisms rather than the usual digital timepieces so common these days.

"hey, speaking of food, how about we get some?" Sun asked abruptly to change the subject before the two dove back into films "I think I overheard your mom say you hadn't eaten today, P?"

Pyrrha turned her gaze to the Faunus, idly wondering if his hearing was as good as his eyesight, as he swept out a hand, gesturing towards a fast-food stand that stood nearby. The smell of frying grease and barbeque wafted into her nostrils, and she narrowed her eyes as she saw a few customers walking away from the cashier with trays of Fries and burgers.  
"Is there anywhere slightly more…healthy, to eat?" she asked nervously, even as her two companions grinned ravenously at the scents coming out of the stand. While she'd developed a-reluctant-acceptance for some of the…less healthier choices of her teammates (pancakes and Fried Dough notwithstanding) there was a line she refused to cross, and grease-and-salt-infused potatoes were amongst them.  
Aside from the stomachaches they gave her, they always made her feel…bloated.

"aww yes!" Sun suddenly declared, drawing Pyrrha's attention to him as his eyes widened in excitement. Reaching out and pulling Neptune so close their cheeks smashed together, his arm snapped out, finger pointed ramrod-straight, as he spoke in tones so serious they were almost morose.  
"Neptune Vasilias, comrade in arms, friend of friends, do you see what I see?"

Neptune narrowed his eyes as he followed Sun's finger, and he almost looked like he was lining up on a target.  
"if I see what you see, and what you see is the same as what I see…then I see…a placard."  
"and what, pray tell, is written on the placard, dear friend?" Sun quipped, squishing his partner closer, both sets of eyes firmly locked on the cardboard display.

Neptune drew in a long, fierce breath before he replied.  
"My Dear Vacuean Comrade, Lord of the prehensile tail and master of the Pistol-Staff, it appears to me that the placard is an advertisement for…. no…" he said, pushing away from Sun and placing a dramatic hand to his forehead "… I cannot speak its name!"  
"Speak it, good sir! Let it be known to the world!" Sun urged, slipping into a touch of Neptune's theatrical speech himself.

Pyrrha sat in her chair, completely lost, all thoughts of finding a more appetizing lunch spot forgotten as she was genuinely interested in just WHAT her two companions were gushing over like religious zealots. As she turned her gaze to follow theirs, Neptune slipped back into his performance. As though he were declaring the name of some holy relic, got down on one knee beside Sun, clasping the faunus' hands as he gazed, enraptured, at the distant placard.  
"My Sun, My dear Wukong, it can only be-!"

"what's a…Super Slurp?"

The dramatic scene being acted out by the two Haven students shattered like glass struck by a stone, and their combined gaze shifted to Pyrrha as Neptune seemed to spring back into his chair.  
Pyrrha's eyes shifted around nervously as the pair scanned her face, searching for some sign that her question was in jest. Both their faces shifted to expressions of shock as they realized she was completely serious.

"you mean… you've never had a Super Slurp?" Neptune said in awe. Pyrrha fidgeted under his piercing gaze as he and Sun stared at her in disbelief. Old lessons from her mother niggled at her minds' ear as the thought of…sugar, fat, other "evils" that she was to avoid at all costs (not that she did) crawled out of the deepest recesses of her memories.  
"My parents don't like me eating…junk food…" she replied quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she hunched her shoulders.  
Neptune gasped and put a hand to his forehead.  
"oh, hold me Sun, I think I'm gonna faint, say it ain't SO, P!" he cried dramatically as he leaned against Sun, who, his expression nonchalant, slid his chair aside and promptly let his teammate drop to the ground with an "oof!" Pyrrha managed a smirk at their antics, but continued speaking.

"It's just… I was always focused on keeping myself fit, and…" she shrugged "…sugar and grease never really fit into that regimen."  
She huffed a sound that was a mix of a sigh and a laugh.  
"You'd be hard-pressed to find any "snacks" at my place" she murmured, the quotations around the word falling into place as though the letters were floating in the air.

"okay, we're putting a stop to this, right now." Neptune said as he scrambled back to his feet "it's summer, and summer means fun, sand, sun and frozen treats galore!"  
Before either of his companions could reply, he turned and marched towards the serving counter, reaching for his wallet as the two watched him go.

"for me…it always meant homework and training…" Pyrrha said as she looked down at the table, playing with her fingers. Sun regarded her with a raised eyebrow.  
"you don't get out much, do you?"

"aaaaaaand HERE we go!" Neptune said triumphantly, as he slid a small, garishly decorated cup with a transparent plastic dome, straw extending from it, in front of Pyrrha. Peering through the clear plastic, she could see the cup was full to the brim with tiny flakes of ice, dyed neon green with some sort of flavoring. Looking up at her companions, she could see Sun smiling brightly at the comparatively giant cup of Yellow ice their friend had brought for him. Neptune himself had one the same size as Sun's, his full of Red ice.  
"Gentlemen and beautiful lady friends, may I present….the Super Slurp!" Neptune said as he slid back into his chair "Very Cherry for me, Goin' Banana's for Sun, and Green Machine for P!"

"Green…Machine?" Pyrrha parroted, looking hopelessly lost and confused as both boys took long, noisy sucks from their respective straws. A look of satisfaction crossed each of their features.  
"awwww yeah…" Sun said as he released his straw from his lips "THAT is what I'm talkin' about!"  
"mmmmmm-hmmm…" Neptune drew out, as he and his teammate *clink'd* their cups together in Salute.

Pyrrha stared at her own drink as she nervously picked it up, holding it in both hands like it was a live grenade.  
"What is…Green Machine?" she asked as she looked the cup over; the plastic was a decorated white, with a holographic rainbow effect that shimmered and shifted depending on how she held the cup.  
Neptune shrugged in response as he took another drink: when he spoke, Pyrrha could see his tongue was already stained red from the juice.  
"it's Lime, I think" he said "I got it for you cause' it matched your eyes."  
"how thoughtful of you" the redhead replied flatly, cocking an eyebrow at the sugary drink in her hand. She could feel both her companions eye's on her as she flicked at the straw, stirring some of the ice around.

"This…does not seem healthy." Pyrrha replied to the boy's scrutiny "…at all."  
"few of the best things in life are, P." Sun replied "c'mon, you can't eat salads and nutrition bars ALL the time."  
"I eat more than that!" Pyrrha huffed, but faltered as both boys shot her a skeptical expression, causing her to wilt "…sometimes…"

"c'mooooooonnnnn…." Sun drawled "one sip. Just taste it."

Pyrrha hesitated under their piercing gaze, and could almost feel her mother breathing down her neck, her shrill voice as she snatched such treats from her hands, scolding her until she was blue in the face, filling the girl with the fear of so much as LOOKING at a sweet out of turn…

Then, for a brief moment, Pyrrha's mind went back to all those years ago, when Jaden had said something oh so similar to Sun…and Fried dough, the delight of delights, had been the result.

Looking down at the frozen Green drink with a skeptical grimace, she slowly placed her lips around the straw and, drawing in a breath, sucked some of the ice up into her mouth.

Both boys, grins on their faces, watched as her expression changed, her eyes slowly widening, her face becoming awed as she drank. Releasing the straw with a quiet gasp, she held the cup away from her face, staring at it in amazement.

"T-That's…" she stammered, her tongue nipping out to catch a drop of green that escaped from her lips, looking up to Neptune "t-that's…how long did you say these have existed?"

"oh, about….50 years." The Blue-haired teen replied with a bemused expression. Pyrrha was staring at the frozen drink like she had just achieved enlightenment. She hastily took another sip, longer this time, before releasing the straw and shaking her head in disbelief. The boys could see her tongue was already neon green as she gaped.  
"that's….that's amazing-!" she said, faltering as both boys burst into laughter.  
"you" Sun chuckled "are one deprived girl, P."  
Pyrrha didn't reply for a moment, even as a smile spread across her face.

"it-It's so…so sweet!" she gasped "so sweet and tangy and fruity and-!"

"Well" Neptune said as he paused in his own drinking "I guess sugar means that much more to a person if they don't get it that often."  
"we'll get you something to wash the green off your tongue before we head back." Sun added, as he winked at the redhead "our little secret, eh, P?"

Pyrrha was almost stunned out of her euphoria at how eerily similar Sun's words were to her uncle's all those years ago, as she nodded eagerly. Her smile grew wider as she stirred her drink around, noting it was already halfway empty.  
"I guess Gus was right about sweets after all…" she murmured, before, a bright grin on her face, she delved back into her drink with gusto, smiling broadly around the straw.

For a few moments, the only sound that could be heard from the table was contented sucking as the three teens indulged in the frozen treat. Sun and Neptune both watched Pyrrha closely as she seemed to inhale her beverage without pause, her head bobbing back and forth a bit, like that of a child.

"Hey, P, can I ask you something?" Sun spoke at last.  
the redhead "hmm'd" inquisitively around her straw as she looked up at him. The Faunus paused for a moment, a yawn escaping his lips, displaying his yellowed tongue: if Pyrrha hadn't known about the drink he was enjoying she'd have thought he was diseased.  
"Your Uncle…you said his name was Spartacus."  
"Mm-hmm" Pyrrha replied around the straw as she returned his gaze.  
"why do you call him 'Gus?'"  
Pyrrha smiled as she paused to take a breath over her now-green tongue. Holding up a hand, she counted off three fingers as she spoke.  
"Great-Uncle-Spartacus. G-U-S. so, Gus." she said, wiggling the raised fingers before using the hand to fiddle the straw in her cup around to loosen the ice "it was easier for me to remember when I was younger and couldn't pronounce 'Spartacus.' After a while, it just kind of stuck."

"huh." Sun said, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully as he resumed drinking.

"He's always been the one who helped me, well, LIVE." Pyrrha continued, the sugar loosening her tongue more than she would usually allow "he's the one who got me the copy of the movie...I think it came from HIS mother, all those years ago."  
"I'm still amazed you knew nothing about that, all this time." Neptune said incredulously "I mean, _The Summer of Roses_ is a classic beyond classics, and rumors of copies existing have caused huge missions of movie historians to try and root it out!"

"Well" Pyrrha replied, her shoulders hunching slightly as her smile faded "I've…well, never really had anyone to share it with."  
Both boys fell silent at that, and Pyrrha continued as she turned her gaze to Neptune.  
"You're the first person I've met who's even made his interest known. I couldn't really share it with my parents: they'd tell me I was wasting my time with such things. And, well…there really wasn't anyone else."  
Neptune smiled at her as he tipped his cup in her direction.  
"I've got quite a collection of my own, if you'd like to see them sometime." He replied. Pyrrha perked up at that, and her smile returned full force.  
Her Aura meter beeped in her purse, tucked into the front pocket of Jaune's Hoodie, and the sun seemed to shine brighter down on her as she felt a burst of energy fill her body.  
"I'd…like that, Neptune. I really would." She said, a broad smile crossing her face.

"in the meantime!" Pyrrha said joyously as she almost leapt to her feet, causing the two boys to lean back in surprise "you guys promised to show me around, and I'm going to hold you to it!"

(AN:  
Okay, I know this chapter and the following one may seem like little reward for a long wait, but trust me, this is all necessary for events later on in the story.

I know the events seen here may seem a little disjointed and awkward, but it will all play into a major plot change coming up. I mentioned that this story IS an AU, so while some of Volume 3's events will occur as they did in-canon, there will be many more changes.

as for why it took so long...Life issues, writers block, my inherent difficulties writing dialogue, and…honestly, this is the third re-write. There was originally supposed to be a lot more angst and awkwardness, but I decided that that didn't fit. Pyrrha experiencing such simple things as a Movie with friends, a Slushy or finding out she could share her interests with someone would be a HAPPY moment, not something that would bring her down.

Anyway, the next chapter will be posted in a few days. I just wanted to keep you all interested.)


	10. Chapter 9: Down in Rivienne, part 2

"Face-painting, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha smiled broadly as she waved back towards a small crowd of excited teenage girls, overseen by several older women whose attire clearly picked them out as Huntresses. The girls all had bright green vests on over their clothes, with the crest of Sanctum Combat School sewn into the breast pockets. Each of them also had a variety of face-painted designs on their smiling cheeks as they cheered the redhead's departing back.

Pyrrha's own cheeks were painted in a menagerie of pearl-white stars and glowing yellow suns, and her hair had a few ribbons and clips to add to the flowers Sun had wrapped into her weave.  
"Oh stop, it was fun!" the redhead replied as she came up to her companions: both of them were hunched slightly under the weight of bulging shopping bags. Neptune sighed as he set his down to straighten his back.  
"no, I mean…the trinket shop, the clothing shop, the Fabric shop, the Dust shop, Two more Super Slurps on top of the one you're drinking now, lunch for all three of us AND those Junior Huntresses, and now a face-painting for all of them?" he said skeptically as he peered at the group of girls "aren't your parents going to notice the sudden chunk you've bitten out of your bank account?"

"And wasn't Nep supposed to pay for Lunch?" Sun added, as he held up the takeaway bag with the leftovers from the Sandwich Shop they'd stopped at in his tail. Neptune gestured towards him with a hushing motion.  
Pyrrha waved dismissively as she took a long drink from her Slurp-an extra large, of course- and leaned back to wave again at the girls, who were giggling excitedly as a few put on action-y poses, clearly talking about the young Huntress.

"My parent's won't mind…much." She said casually as she paused for a breath "I've still got plenty of royalty money coming in, and it's not like I bought a car or anything!"  
"Not sure you'd want to drive one right now…" Neptune replied as he smirked at his friend.  
The three turned away from the gaggle of girls, who headed up the road towards the beach, their excitement clear for all onlookers to hear. For several moments, the Teens simply basked in the sunshine, the light sparkling off the clips in Pyrrha's hair.

"They recognized you, clearly." Sun finally said as the three strolled along.  
"They said they'd keep quiet." Pyrrha replied with a smile "I told them I was on a top-secret Huntress mission, and I couldn't let anyone know I was here."  
"Probably made their day." Neptune remarked as he heard the excited voices of the children fade behind them.  
"It certainly made their Teacher's day" Pyrrha replied "It's a bit too cold for the beach, and they were feeling stumped as to how they'd make it up to the girls."  
"So" she continued after taking another drink "I thought to myself "what better way to brighten up their day than meeting their favorite Huntress in training?" They're the same girls that were gushing over my cardboard twin at the Dust Store earlier today."

Sun and Neptune nodded at her, even as their eyes met for a moment: Pyrrha had become…strangely outgoing, with the influx of sugar into her system. She'd certainly been much more reserved at Beacon: both could recall that it had taken her several days to just talk to them in the Cafeteria, despite team RWBY knowing them well. Even then, she'd been cautious about her words: no wonder she and Neptune had known nothing about their shared interest in classic film.

Now, to look at her, she seemed to be Miss Personality: she waved at everyone who approached them, seemed to offer laughter like it was going out of style, and they way she'd been spending money made it look like lien were about to follow suit.  
They'd hopped from shop to shop, sometimes just browsing, sometimes coming out with bagfuls of knick-knacks and other such trinkets. Pyrrha had particularly gushed over a set of silken curtains inlaid with wind chimes: she'd delightedly told the two boys she'd had a set like them when she was a little girl, until her parents made her replace them.  
On top of that, Pyrrha had bought another sundress with a pair of matching sandals, some makeup that, on the advice of the store clerk, would "make her eyes sparkle," a scarf that matched the bronze-and-scarlet color of her armor, a number of T-shirts (including one with her own logo, which for some reason she'd found irresistible) and, to the boy's amusement, a stuffed figurine of a knight with blond hair, dressed in white armor that both could see reminded her of Jaune. Sun had ribbed her about that until her face was as red as her hair, but she hadn't even hesitated to purchase the toy.

When they'd encountered the group of Girls, all Huntress trainees who were about to enter the Sanctum school, Pyrrha had quickly latched onto the group once she'd been recognized, almost taking over chaperoning from the teachers who had been overseeing the group. She'd amicably answered every question the girls had asked her, embellishing a few events and telling a few stories of her adventures. She'd not even balked when the girls had all but dragged her over to a face-painting stand near the beach, graciously accepting the menagerie of hair clips and ribbons the girls had almost forced on her.  
After a group photo with their newly-decorated faces, Pyrrha had decided she'd neglected her two companions enough. Waving goodbye to the girls, she'd given them all a parting message to "keep calm, keep focused, and always stay close to your team."

Sun and Neptune, who had remained respectfully quiet throughout the whole affair, had tried not to let their growing exhaustion show as they'd followed the redhead up and down…and up and down…

[=]

"Look, let's sit down for a minute." Neptune said as he guided Pyrrha towards a Bench that stood under a tree nearby "your leg can't be appreciating all this dashing about."

"my leg is perfectly fine" Pyrrha replied loftily as she descended artfully onto the seat, crossing her long legs and running a finger up her calve, the support pantyhose she wore gleaming like copper in the sunlight.  
"Aura's unlimbered all those muscles" she continued as she flecked a piece of dust off her leg, wiggling her foot for a moment "I feel perfect."  
"that your Aura or the sugar talking?" Sun quipped as he sat down beside her. Pyrrha giggled, playfully sticking a tongue out at him: if it had been mildly green before, it positively glowed with Green Machine flavor now.  
"I mean, crammin' down all that frozen stuff can't just be for the flavor: aren't you hot?" the Faunus went on, letting his eyes travel down to Jaune's familiar Hoodie, which was still enveloping Pyrrha's upper body "the sun's getting high, and it's pretty warm out now."

Pyrrha chuckled as she looked down at herself, pondering the ice drink in her hands for a moment, letting a hand slowly glance over the black material of the sweater.  
"I suppose I do feel a bit warm." She said at last.

The smile suddenly faded from Pyrrha's face, and she fidgeted slightly as her fingers worried at the ends of the sleeves where they were draping over her hands. Sun and Neptune glanced at each other once more: they'd both noticed that, throughout the day, Pyrrha had been occasionally ducking her head down into the hood, closing her eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath.  
It was obvious to both what she was doing…who she was thinking of. Neptune thought for a moment about his scroll, still in his pocket, the garbled, half-legible message that still hadn't been heard by the redhead.

Then, the Blue-haired Mistralian's eyes lit up.  
"you still want Jaune to be, uh…"hugging," you?" he put forth. Pyrrha's head swung up with eyes wide with surprise as a slight blush came to her cheeks.  
"Here, take it off before you keel over from heatstroke…I've got an idea." Neptune went on.

Pausing and setting her drink down, Pyrrha hesitantly doffed Jaune's sweater and, reluctantly, after a quick sniff of the collar, handed it over to her fellow Mistralian.  
Gently pulling out the sleeves, he stood and slipped behind Pyrrha.  
"Here, lean forward." He said, Pyrrha obliging with a smile as she realized what he was doing.

Neptune slipped the garment's sleeves over Pyrrha's shoulders, letting them dangle down her front, while the rest of the sweater, the hood fluffed up behind her head, trailed down her back.  
Sliding her hair out from under the black Hoodie, Neptune sat back down as Pyrrha carefully tied the sleeves together before her.  
"There you go" Neptune said as he sat back down "one Blondie Honeyboo sweater turned into one fabulous fashion statement!"

Pyrrha's face went as red as her hair as both boys erupted in laughter. Pouting slightly (the sugar was REALLY messing with her, good gracious) Pyrrha crossed her arms and tapped her foot frustratingly.  
"He's NOT my…my Honeyboo..." she replied with a huff, hesitating at the unfamiliar word.  
"Not yet" Sun whispered, causing Pyrrha's blush to deepen.

"Oh come on." Neptune said "we're only joking Pyrrha."  
"yeah" Sun replied "besides, we're pretty sure Jaune's just as twisted up by all this as you are."

At that, Pyrrha perked up suddenly, her blush fading as hope came into her eyes.  
"y-you really think so?" she asked as she turned to the Faunus. He smiled broadly.

"Well, the way he was looking at you, when I sat in on your last dueling session before semester break?" Sun said casually, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as he tilted his head back "let me tell you, P, he most certainly was NOT studying your maneuvers."  
"And he spends more time with you than anyone else, for that matter." Neptune added, holding up a finger as Pyrrha turned and tried to speak "and no, I don't think it's just because you're partners. Ren and Nora have told us as much: you two are practically inseparable."

Considering that THAT had been the exact reason Pyrrha had been about to state, she fell silent, looking down at the ground, her eyes widening as she digested both boy's words.

Come to think of it, she and Jaune-DID-spend almost all of their off-duty time together…while most of it was, of course, training (and her pride at his growing abilities made those all the more pleasant) there was studying in the library, meal times, homework in their dorm, those times when he shared his vast comic collection with her (she'd developed quite a fondness for _X-ray and Vav_ ) those times they'd gone into Vale together (though Ren and Nora tagging along would prevent her calling those "dates") playing video games together, those few times she'd joined him watching cartoons (and trying to hide her humor at how funny some of them were) and, of course, when they'd both passed out on her bed after the dance, almost carrying each other back to their dorm in exhaustion (Nora still had the picture of the two of them, still in their respective dresses, unconsciously cuddling with each other as they slept)

Part of her, the part of her that always tried to keep her in line, had simply said that her time with him was because of their partnership…but at the back of her mind, she knew he could have, in all rights, simply shown up for the academic portions of their schooling and forsaken her at every other turn.

And then there was the tiny, nagging voice, that one that told her to throw caution to the wind…  
the one that had been becoming stronger ever since she'd entered Beacon…

no wonder she'd been feeling so…off.  
It was like a piece of her was missing.

Leaning back, she sighed elatedly as she fluffed out her hair, closing her eyes for a moment as the sun beamed down on her face.

Maybe there was more hope than just the dance…maybe.

Neptune smirked at her as he sat opposite Sun, leaning an arm over the back of the bench and letting his eyes travel over his companion.  
"If you feel as fabulous as you look, P, I dare say your de-stressing treatment is going well." He quipped bemusedly.  
Pyrrha let a full, proper laugh out at that, and turned her gaze, glowing with gratitude, to the blue-haired teen.  
"Then consider the movie payment for your services!" she chuckled.  
Neptune's smile grew excited at that, and he leaned back to snicker himself for a moment.  
"Maybe you could bring it back to Beacon with you…" he said thoughtfully "I know Blake and Weiss would probably enjoy it…maybe Ruby too, she seems to like stories like that."  
"a big movie night for all of us before the tournament starts?" Pyrrha replied, pondering in her own voice, before she smiled  
"…yes…I'd like that."

"I wouldn't" Sun quipped "gimme somethin' with explosions any day of the week."  
"oh, then you can go hang out with Jaune and Nora and Yang and do…whatever muscle heads like you do…" Neptune replied as he tossed his head dismissively.  
Sun shrugged, tucking into his own Slurp as he slung an arm behind his head. Pyrrha giggled at the interplay between the two: it was almost like a comedy routine. The two boys could not have much LESS in common, and yet they were such good friends.  
Then another thought struck her.  
 _Time to do some ribbing of her own_ , the tiny voice said.

"Speaking of possible partners…" Pyrrha said as she turned her smile to Neptune "how are things going with you and Weiss?"

Neptune's smile vanished. Sun choked on his Super Slurp for a moment as he winced at Pyrrha.  
Pyrrha's own grin vanished as Neptune leaned forwards, a nervous look coming to his face.  
"Neptune?" she asked, concern filling her voice. The nagging voice was silenced as though it were gagged.

The Blue haired teen waved nervously as he looked away, tension in his eyes.  
"Ah…hey, I just realized, I've had a LOT to drink today, and, ah…be right back…"

Before either of his companions could reply, he bolted to his feet, walking briskly toward the public bathrooms that stood nearby: they were close to the beach now, with only a few convenience stores and storehouses separating the teens from the shore.

"What is it?" Pyrrha asked worriedly as she looked at Neptune's retreating back "oh no, d-did I say something-?"

"It's not you, P, relax." Sun said, slipping a reassuring hand onto her shoulder as she placed a hand to her lips. Sun regarded his teammate with a concerned eye of his own.  
"It's….well, I don't think he and Weiss are in a good place right now…they had some kind of fight right before the semester ended…I think he's worried his offer for her to come back here and spend the summer with him was a bit too….forward."  
A scornful look came to his face as he mentioned the Atlesian heiress.  
"Though" he said with a huff as he leaned back "Weiss' response doesn't leave her off the hook either."

"too…forward?" Pyrrha echoed, as her thoughts briefly went to her Atlesian friend: she knew Weiss could be a bit…prim, but she'd seemed very "into" Neptune, at least last time she'd seen them together.  
And she'd been genuinely happy to see the two of them chatting amicably at the dance: it was rare to see Weiss smiling like she'd been.

 _Besides_ , a selfish part of her mind said, _anything to drive the divide between Jaune and Weiss ever wider-  
_  
"I heard the whole thing!" Sun replied, popping Pyrrha out of her uncharacteristic thoughts "she said, and I quote "If I haven't the time to spend with my team this summer, what makes you think I've got the time to spend with you?" he shook his head "doesn't make a lick of sense."

Pyrrha looked over at the bathroom stalls, a saddened expression coming to her face. Her euphoria at the day's events came crashing down around her like a beheaded Nevermore.  
"And I thought they were getting along great too…" she murmured.

She sat, her outgoing happiness fading rapidly as she gradually folded in on herself, until by the time Neptune came trotting back over to them Pyrrha had both feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders hunched as she pressed her hands into her lap. She looked up nervously at Neptune's approach.

"Neptune, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"she began to say as she stood, but Neptune waved her off.  
"No need, P." he replied as he shook his head "you didn't know."  
He put on his casual, cool-guy smile as he motioned her to sit back down, joining her and Sun on the bench.  
"It just kinda came outta the blue, is all." He said. For a long moment, he was silent, staring off into the distance as Sun and Pyrrha looked at him, concern etched on their faces.

"I mean, I guess I was kinda pushy." Neptune went on at last as he laughed sheepishly, leaning back as he continued looking anywhere but at his companions "sure, we're kinda getting to know each other better, but Weiss and I-"

Neptune's voice broke off as a loud _CRACK!_ suddenly echoed through the air, coming from the center of town.  
Even as the sharp noise faded, a high-pitched wail, tinny, distant, came to the three teen's ears. Almost reflexively, honed through years of training, the three hunters' ears perked up at the sound.  
"What's that?" Sun asked. Pyrrha's brow furrowed, concerns over Neptune and Weiss forgotten.  
"That's far too quiet to be the Grimm alert…that would be filling the whole town…" she said quietly.  
Neptune cupped a hand to his ear, turning his head to get a better angle.  
"If I didn't know better…" he said slowly, when Pyrrha's hand suddenly fell on his arm. Jerked out of his thoughts, his head whipped around to see the redhead, a horrified look on her face, staring towards the center of town.  
Looking up, Neptune spotted the clock tower that overlooked the area, the old stone building standing tall and resolute, and its old clock face shining.

And there, hanging from one of the corners of the old roof….

"…that sounds like screaming!" Sun finished, as all three gasped in horror at the sight of someone flailing desperately as they hung from the top of the tower, easily a hundred feet off the ground.

[=]

The three teens dashed over the sidewalks towards the town square where the old clock tower stood, joining with a large group of other townsfolk, all summoned by the noise. As they drew closer, the tower always visible due to its height, Pyrrha could begin to make out some more details.  
On the observation deck at the top of the old tower, long since closed to the public, the railing that had once served as a safety barrier for sightseers had a large chunk bitten out of it, the old wooden railing crumpled and splintered and several of the spars missing.

And, to Pyrrha's alarm, she could now see that the poor figure hanging for their life and screaming loud enough to be heard a quarter of a mile away was, in fact, a little girl. Her little legs were flailing in the empty air as she clutched desperately at the edge of the roof.

Before long, the three teens had joined a large group of townsfolk who had surged into the square, all heads looking up at the child dangling above them. The poor girl's screams had subsided to helpless sobbing, and her barely-understood begging carried down to Pyrrha's ears. She clenched the handles of the shopping bags holding her purchases tighter in her fists as the child's begging tugged at her heartstrings.

"Melody!" a young woman at the front of the crowd sobbed above the murmur of voices "Melody sweetie, just hang on!"  
"Mommy, help!" the child wept as she grasped desperately at the edge of the roof, her little legs dangling below her.

"What happened?" Neptune asked an older man who was standing next to the trio. He grimaced in nervousness, never taking his eyes off the scene.  
"Poor kid apparently snuck off into the tower while her Ma had her back turned. She clambered up there all by her lonesome: Guess she wanted to see everything, but when she jumped up on the railing for a better look…" he trailed off, pointing to the collapsed railing and the pieces of old wood that littered the roof and the sidewalk below.  
"That Observation deck has been closed for years! How did she get up there?" another man asked from close by.  
"I heard they were thinking about refurbishing it for Mistral Day, and were sounding the structure for renovations." An older woman commented "they must have forgotten to lock the door behind them."

Pyrrha was barely listening to the commentary: her attention was firmly fixed on the child dangling above her. She could see that the girl's overall-dress had become snared on one of the metal supports for the gutter that circled the perimeter of the roof: The poor girl's hands were clutching the edge of the gutter itself for dear life. To think, a flimsy piece of aluminum had saved the girl from plummeting to her death.  
But it wouldn't save her for much longer.

Pyrrha dropped both bags, a hand going to her mouth, as the girl suddenly lurched downwards, a screech of strained metal filling the square as part of the gutter pulled away.  
"mommy! I can't hold on!" the girl cried as she tried vainly to pull herself up. The girl's mother, held back by a policeman, screamed in helpless despair as she tried to rush into the tower. A second officer went and stood by the door, to prevent any would-be rescuers from endangering themselves.  
"where' s the fire department?!" a voice echoed over the crowd. A few angered shouts joined the first, with a menagerie of suggestions to match.  
"someone get a ladder!"  
"where's a safety net when you need one?"

"we have to do something!" Pyrrha said to her two companions as she turned to face them. Sun and Neptune both met her gaze, before they looked nervously at each other.  
"you sure about that, P?" Sun asked.

Pyrrha's mouth dropped open in disbelief, and she felt outrage well up inside her as she looked at their nervous expressions. A small part of her felt like smacking them both upside the head.  
She settled for letting a stammered statement, forced out between clenched teeth, that she so wished could inflict physical blows of its own.

"are you…Huntsmen academy students, are you actually suggesting-?!"

"no, no!" Neptune cut in "we're not saying just leave her, but-"  
"But what?" Pyrrha demanded, scorn on her face. What possible excuse could they possibly-?

"P…if people recognize you, this could turn really messy, really quick." Neptune said.  
Pyrrha's anger vanished in a second as realization dawned on her: she'd been so focused on the little girl she'd forgotten she was still incognito. And for good reason, as memories of past events she'd long wished she could forget flashed through her mind.  
She looked around nervously: everyone's eyes were fixed on the drama above, so no one was paying her close attention.  
but if they did…even her changed hairstyle might not cover her for long…  
"The last thing we need right now is a bunch of your fans surging into the square while all this is going on." Neptune went on "we need people focusing on that poor kid, and-"

He was cut off by a surge of gasps, and all three teens snapped their heads back up to see a Police officer shimmying down towards the edge of the roof, a safety line tied about his waist and held back by two more officers. The descending man had a reassuring smile on his face as he continued downwards, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the girl.  
"besides" Neptune concluded, a forced relief in his voice "it seems the authorities have this under control."

"I suppose…" Pyrrha murmured, but she kept her hands nervously held against her chest as she stared at the ongoing rescue attempt. Something in her, the same something that had convinced her to send Milo off to pin Jaune to the tree so long ago, told her that she HAD to do…something, anything!

Slowly, his hands reaching out, the officer gently grasped the girl's trembling wrists. He was smiling brightly and whispering consoling words to the poor girl.  
For a moment, a sensation of relief began to emanate through the crowd below.

And then, Pyrrha's heart skipped several beats as, with a shriek of tearing aluminum, the gutter pulled away from the edge of the roof, the thin metal twisting and crumpling.  
Not prepared for the sudden shift in weight, the Officer could only gape in shock as the girl's wrists suddenly slipped from his hands. As he reached out to try and grab her, his arm was caught by a piece of the tearing metal. Blood spurted into the air as the sleeve of his uniform-and his arm-were torn open.

To an accumulated scream that seemed to come from a thousand mouths, Pyrrha's included, the gutter twisted, bringing the poor girl away from the roof and down to dangle over the clock face below. She now hung in space, nowhere to go. The Girl's mother collapsed to her knees, her trembling hands covering her mouth as she stared up at her daughter.

Pyrrha could only stare in horror as the girl, unable to even scream in her terror, peered down at the square through a pair of beautiful blue eyes, huge in fright and wet with tears.

it was the eyes that galvanized Pyrrha into action. Something about them…something that made her think of a certain blonde, so far away…

Her mind immediately shifted into "Huntress" mode: all her fear drained away like a drain plug had been pulled, leaving her with a tactician's logic as she began to scan the scene, searching for an avenue to aid the girl.  
The roof was out: the girl was too far below the edge for a descent to work without a rappelling line, and she doubted the police, who were tending to their injured comrade, would be willing to spare their rope.

Straight-out-climbing the tower was also out: the stone face offered a number of finger-and-toe-holds, but none that would let her pluck the girl off the twisted gutter without releasing her grip. She scanned the tower with her eyes, seeking some advantage, the same way she observed opponents.

Then, her eyes fell on a barely-visible square outline in the clock face: just large enough for a person to squeeze through.  
For a moment, she was confused as to its purpose, but then it struck her: the personnel who tended to the mechanisms would need an avenue to inspect the clock face for damage, or to clean the polished white face and gold-plated scrollwork and numbers.  
And the girl was dangling only a few feet away from it….

For a moment, the part of her mind that tried to regulate her behavior screamed at her that if she could see it, clearly others could: the last thing she needed to do was draw attention to herself.  
The last thing the poor girl needed was a riot unfolding below her feet…

"To hell with it." Pyrrha mumbled as she un-knotted Jaune's sweater from her shoulders and quickly put it back on: not bothering to pull her hair out from underneath, she turned to her two companions, who were regarding her with worried expressions.  
"what's that, P?" Sun asked.  
Turning and looking up at the clock face, Pyrrha indicated with a gesture of her head what she was planning to do.  
"I'm going to try and use that service portal to get at her via the clock face."  
"but P, what about-?" Neptune began, but Pyrrha held a up a hand to silence him as she drew the black hood up around her head.  
" My Hood should keep my identity secret, providing no one sees my face." She said coolly.  
She paused, looking down at the yellow ballet flats on her feet, and grimaced.  
"I wish I'd worn my boots…I'm going to need a bit more traction than these can provide."  
"Here" Sun said as he slipped his sneakers off, his voice suddenly serious, even as Neptune's head whirled to face him "I hope a Men's size 10 is adequate."  
Pyrrha nodded with a smile at the Faunus-leave it to the laid-back guy to be the first on the jump-as she doffed her flats and slipped her feet into Sun's shoes.  
She cursed the thinness of her pantyhose as she knelt down and tied the laces as tight as she could: they were a touch loose, but they would do.  
"I'll need you guys to run cover for me: I'll need to sneak in if I'm going to do anything."  
"Actually" Neptune said, his own voice becoming low, all business "I know that there's a back door around the other side. If there's a cop over there, we can draw him off, and you can sneak in that way."

Pyrrha nodded a thankful smile on her face: Neptune seemed to have accepted that she was going to act, with his approval or no.  
Slipping her flats into one of the shopping bags, the three turned and briskly made their way to the edge of the plaza, which was rapidly filling with people.

Above them, the poor girl still dangled, gripping the gutter for all it was worth.

[=]

It turned out that the Boy's concerns were unfounded; the back door was unguarded, and it was a simple matter for Sun to pick the lock after the three had taken a long route around the square that kept them out of sight of the crowd.  
"I'm not going to ask how you know how to do that." Pyrrha said, a touch of disapproval in her voice as the Faunus slipped a tool she hadn't seen him carrying back out of sight. Sun winked at her as he swung the door open.  
"Just one of those things you pick up, P." he replied.  
Neptune placed a hand on Pyrrha's shoulder, drawing her gaze to him: he looked serious.  
"you want us in there with you?" he asked. She shook her head.  
"I need you to make your way back around, in case I…" she broke off, shaking her head harder this time.  
"just make sure you're underneath the clock face." She said hastily. Both boys looked at each other: her unspoken words rang like bells in their ears.

"good luck, P." Sun said as he and Neptune stepped back: while, in truth, part of him dreaded going over the old wooden floors inside in his bare feet, part of him was also ready to throw caution to the wind and go all-out to rescue the child. If Pyrrha hadn't acted, nothing was there to keep him from doing so.

with a nod of determination, Pyrrha slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

"come on!" Sun said, smacking Neptune on the shoulder as he began a quick trot around the building "we've got to be ready!"

[=]  
The inside of the old clock tower smelled of wood and varnish and old metal and HISTORY, and for a moment, Pyrrha was lost in a trance as the smell of the past enveloped her, the loud ticking of the old clock gears, the dust that clung to the surfaces around her, the cobwebs that dangled from the shadows. Fanciful memories from her childhood, when she and Jaden had gone exploring some of the old buildings that ringed the edge of the bay, briefly filled her mind.

She mentally slapped herself to get moving: now wasn't the time.  
Looking to her right, she saw a spiraling iron stairway ascending up the interior of the tower: clean spots in the dust that covered the treads told her that others had recently used this passage. Without waiting a moment longer, she dashed over to the structure and began circling up.  
As she ascended, she could hear the tick-tock of the clock gears growing louder in her ears: the doorway out to the face would likely be in the machine room, where the winding mechanism was kept.

Passing through the roof of the chamber that held the doorway, she stopped short as she found herself suddenly surrounded by a loud, continuous ticking noise: Silencers and the thickness of the walls kept the noise of the mechanism from reaching the outside, and she hadn't anticipated it being so…loud.  
Nor had she quite anticipated the sheer scale of the room: gears and springs as wide as she was tall seemed to fill every corner of the chamber. These rotated rhythmically, each one punctuated by a loud TICK-TOCK as the machine carried out its prescribed function.

For a moment, Pyrrha was stunned still: in the age of computers and digital technologies, where everything was sleek and modern, to find such an ancient mechanism was almost unheard of.

To find one so…pristine…

Her eyes fell on a small door, held closed with a latch, which became visible on the far side of the room. Looking around it, she could see that the walls were smooth, and that the large round transmission that moved the clock's hands extended through the center of it.  
"That must be it." she whispered to herself, the syllables drowned out by the noise of the mechanism.

Making her way across the chamber, careful not to let her clothes catch on the metal edges of the gears, she was relieved to see the doorway had no lock.  
By her estimate, it would be-just-large enough for her and the child to slip back through.

Taking a deep breath, ignoring the voice in her head that screamed at her to go back downstairs and behave, she reached up and, undogging the latch, pushed the doorway open.

[=]

For a moment, light stunned her: the darkness of the chamber, lit by only a few lamps, was a sharp contrast to the bright sunny day outside.  
Blinking the spots out of her eyes, she leaned out of the portal, careful to not expose her face to the crown below, who she could hear gasp in alarm, and looked around to mark her location.

She felt a touch of satisfaction as, looking to her right, her eyes met a pair of painfully familiar blue orbs, full of tears and staring at her in fright. The little girl clutched desperately at the shattered gutter, the crumpled metal having cut at her fingers: Pyrrha tutted as she saw a few drops of blood staining the sleeves of the child's T-shirt.  
"Don't worry!" she said reassuringly "it's going to be alright. What's your name?"  
The little girl's lips trembled as Pyrrha started to make her way out of the portal, doing her best not to take her gaze off the child: a quick glance down showed that the large metal protrustion that was the Number "9" on the clock face was-just-wide enough for her to stand on, if she kept to her toes. Reaching up, the number "10" could serve as an effective hand-hold.  
"M-Melody…" the girl shivered. Pyrrha's smile grew wider.  
"don't worry, Melody, I'll get you down safe and sound."  
"w-who are you?" the poor child asked. Pyrrha hesitated at that: should she tell the poor dear? It might make her more excited…or more nervous.  
"I'm a Huntress." She said at last. The girl's eyes widened as Pyrrha began to shimmy out onto the number 9: the gold-plated metal was, thankfully, formed in a classical script style, and with flat edges instead of rounded off.  
"yo-you're a huntress?" the girl parroted, at Which Pyrrha nodded.  
"that's right!" she smiled "and I'm going to get you down, just you wait and see."  
As she finally came to a standing position, her heels hanging off the number and one of her hands grasping at the number above, she silently cursed: she'd assumed there's be more of a foothold.  
Then again, any such repairs as the portal would be used for would have proper scaffolding, wouldn't they?  
Looking up, she kept her smile on for the girl as she observed the scene:  
The fall had finally ripped the strap of the girl's overall-dress that had been holding her onto the gutter, the denim material hanging loose over her white T-shirt. She was literally hanging by her fingertips now: Pyrrha silently praised the girl's strength.

Looking closely, Pyrrha could see that, in addition to the metal buttons that held the straps over her shoulders, the dress also had some metal decorations, studs and clips to hold pockets closed. She smiled reassuringly at the girl: those would have to be enough.

"Alright, Sweetie, now you're going to need to do exactly what I say, alright?" she said, as she slowly raised a hand, intending to grab the buttons on the girl's dress using her semblance.  
To her horror, the child began to work one of her hands loose, to reach out in response.  
"No, no! Don't let go yet!" Pyrrha cried, harder than she'd wanted to: the poor girl winced away from her, clutching tighter at the metal as she sniffed in fear.  
"sorry, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to shout at you…" Pyrrha said, trying her best to sound reassuring "it's just I need you to do ONLY what I say, okay?"  
the poor girl nodded after a long moment, and Pyrrha pressed ahead, reassured.  
"Alright then. Now, when I tell you, you need to let go, alright?"  
"b-but you just said-"  
"That's because you tried to let go too soon, sweetie." Pyrrha replied "you need to do it when I say to, alright? I'm going to use my Semblance to get you over to this little doorway right here, you understand me? "  
"sem…blance?" the child repeated, stumbling over the word as she stared in confusion. Pyrrha mentally smacked herself: of course the poor girl wouldn't know the technical terms yet, she couldn't have been older than three.  
"My special Huntress power." She said quickly, which earned her a look of understanding as the girl nodded.  
"alright. Just wait for it…" Pyrrha said, as she stretched her hand out once more, trying to drown out the roars coming from the crowd below and the clanging of the clock gears in her ears.  
She then heard another sound, and tensed for a moment as, turning her head, one of the police officers poked his head out, turning a frustrated gaze to meet her eyes.  
"I should run you in for this stunt, you stupid-" he began to say, when his face changed, and recognition dawned in his eyes.  
"You…you're…-"  
"Shh!" Pyrrha hissed. She jerked her head towards the girl "I don't want her to get all excited!"  
Almost slapping a hand to his mouth, the officer nodded even as he continued gaping. With a sigh of relief, Pyrrha explained her plan.  
"I'm going to use my semblance to float her over to my hand: after that, I'm going to swing her around to the portal: I was hoping to just plop her inside, but now I'm going to need you to catch her, you got me?"  
the officer nodded, but looked confused.  
"Can't you just float her over to the door?" he asked "why the swinging? It seems far too dangerous."  
"This whole situation is dangerous." Pyrrha replied firmly "I don't want to risk her floating in mid-air in case the buttons rip off her dress. Now please, we need to hurry: she can't hold on much longer"  
"okay, okay." The officer said, waving conciliatorily.  
"Alright" Pyrrha said "now, be ready."  
With a nod, the officer turned his attention to the little girl, putting a smile on his face as he held out his hands.  
"don't worry, sweetie, we've got this under control!" he called.

Turning her gaze back to the girl, Pyrrha kept up her smile even as she went to work, drawing on her Aura. She felt the familiar surge of energy coursing through her veins, the thrilling excitement that raised goosebumps all over her arms. Raising her free hand towards Melody once more, she perceived the symbolic black shroud surrounding her fingers that emerged every time she called upon her power.

Pyrrha focused her gaze on the metal buttons on the girl's dress: they weren't much to work with, not like Jaune's shield or Mercury's gun-boots, but they would serve for the few seconds she needed.  
As she concentrated, another black shroud began to emanate from around the bronzed clasps and buttons, and the girl looked down in surprise as she felt something start to lift her up ever so slightly.

"All right, Melody…" Pyrrha said slowly, as she felt herself firmly lock onto the metal bits that would hopefully be the child's salvation "I'm going to count to three: when I get to three, you need to let go of the gutter and grab my hand. I promise I won't drop you, okay?"  
"p-promise?" the poor girl trembled. Pyrrha's reassuring smile returned.  
"I promise" she repeated "cross my heart. Now, on three-"  
She broke off with a cry of alarm as another shriek of tortured metal heralded the gutter losing it's grip with the roof. Melody screamed in fright as the gutter shifted once more, dropping her down a few more inches. Pyrrha managed to keep her hold on the girl's buttons, but she knew she couldn't wait any longer.  
"Okay" she said quickly, hiding the fear in her own voice "...One, Two…Three!"

Maybe it was the promise of rescue, maybe it was Pyrrha's reassuring smile, or maybe it was simply a desire to be anywhere but where she was, but Melody released the gutter without another second's hesitation.  
Her tiny hand reached out, her huge blue eyes pleading, and clasped Pyrrha's outstretched palm, her body held up by the few metal elements of her clothing in the crucial seconds between her releasing the gutter and grabbing Pyrrha's hand.  
As soon as she felt the tiny hand, warm with blood from the girl's cut fingers, slap onto her palm, Pyrrha closed her hand like a bear trap, firmly locking the girl in her grip.

and she swung.

The action was so swift, so sudden, the poor girl didn't have time to scream. All she could do was gape in shock as she suddenly flew through the air with the greatest of ease, hanging from the end of Pyrrha's arm. Behind her, the gutter shifted, and the piece she had been hanging onto broke free and hurtled to the ground with a clattering crash.

Swinging Melody up in an arc, letting the centrifugal force of the movement carry the child back up, Pyrrha easily slipped the girl into the waiting arms of the police officer.  
As his arms closed around the girl, Pyrrha released the child's hand, swinging her arm back around and firmly grasping the number above her.

The whole thing had taken a few seconds.

With a cheer that echoed up and down the street, the Officer ducked safely back inside with the girl, who was clinging to him for dear life. Safely out of sight, Pyrrha knew the girl would be safe.

With a relieved smile on her face, Pyrrha shimmied back over towards the door and, carefully, planted her foot on the edge of the wooden portal, peering inside to make sure she was clear to enter. The other police officer started walking towards her to help her inside. Smiling at him, Pyrrha reached out with one of her hands as she began to move her other foot over to the doorway.

It was then that everything went impossibly wrong.

With a sudden CRACK! That was as loud as the one that had summoned her to the tower in the first place, the wooden surface that she was supporting herself on gave away without warning. Bending outwards, her foot slipped off the now-angled surface into the open air.

Pyrrha's eyes widened as she suddenly felt nothing beneath her feet, her outstretched hand still reaching for the other police officer, who broke into a run as his face fell in fear.

As gravity suddenly began to claim her, she felt something grab at the sleeve of Jaune's hoodie, and for a moment believed another officer had come to her aid.

The sound to tearing fabric dashed those hopes as she realized Jaune's sleeve had become caught on the latch of the doorway, and the fabric was giving way, unable to support her weight. Horror crossed her face as the Hoodie, so comforting, so needed, was suddenly ripped apart by the forces of nature as she began to descend. The black sleeve, free of the stitches that bound it to the rest of the garment, slipped over and off her slim arm, flapping like a ragged pennant as she fell away from it.

She felt the metal of the latch grab the shoulder of her dress as it tore the sweater's sleeve away, the thin cotton tearing like tissue paper. She felt a sudden breeze on her chest as, without anything to grab hold of in those fleeting seconds, Pyrrha Nikos tumbled into space, a scream from below harkening her descent.

[=]

After the seeming hours of her run to the square, her climb up the tower's interior, her rescue of the girl, and now this…

The fall was strangely…anti-climactic.

It took barely a few seconds to descend the hundred or so feet to the ground, too swift for her to even manage a trained tuck-and-roll as she hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.  
Her Aura absorbed most of the impact, though the force-field generated by her very soul dissipated in a burst of red light that flowed up and down her body as she lost balance and, her legs giving out, slumped onto her backside.

For a moment, she lay, stunned, as a crowd of faces filled her vision. Voices tore into her ears, a cacophony of noise that was too much, too much…  
"are you alright?"  
"someone get an ambulance!"  
"move back, give her some air!"  
 _"P!"_

A familiar head of blue hair suddenly appeared above her, eyes wide in concern as his arms framed her head.  
"P, come on, talk to me!" Neptune begged as Pyrrha groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to sit up.  
"whoa, whoa, take it easy" an elderly man who was kneeling beside her said as he reached out to steady her. Pyrrha slowly opened her eyes, taking a deep breath as she mentally checked herself over:  
she wiggled her fingers and moved her feet back and forth, shifted her arms and rocked her head side to side: no, no pain. at least not yet.

 _Thank goodness for Aura_ , she thought to herself as she pushed herself into a sitting position _It IS like a forcefield._

"you alright, missie?" the elderly man asked as she took stock of herself. Neptune kept a hand on her shoulder, his face full of concern. around them, other townsfolk were staring at her.

If she'd been paying more attention to them, she would have seen a few of those eyes widen as the policeman's had.

Pyrrha looked around at the faces that were staring at her, a hand on her head as she drew in breath after breath.  
"well…" she said to the looks of concern "that didn't go quite as planned."

It was just the tension breaker the situation needed, and a fresh cheer suddenly erupted as Neptune helped her to her feet, shaking slightly as the adrenaline wore off. Amid claps on the back and cries of "well done!" she smiled amicably, nodding and shaking the occasional hand. As she did so, her attention was drawn back to her now-bare arm.

Looking down at her long, slim arm, now exposed to the air, her face fell as she fingered the ragged edges of the shoulder where Jaune's sleeve had once sat. Looking up, she could see the sleeve still flapping from the doorway where it had been torn free.

She fought back a sudden sting of tears at the sight.  
"I'm so sorry, Jaune" she whispered as she carefully removed the Hoodie, cradling it in her arms, taking a quick whiff of Jaune's scent "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Neptune laid a hand on her shoulder as she stood up straight, and looked around, scanning the scene. the crowd around her was still cheering, relief perceptible in the air. closer to the tower, another collection of people had gathered around a few figures who stood in the doorway.

A sense of Satisfaction began to come over the redhead as she looked on at the mother and child: the woman was clutching the little girl to her breast, sobbing in joy as the police officers stood around them, smiling in relief. The girl herself had her arms wrapped around her mother's neck, her face buried on the woman's chest as her mother rocked her back and forth.

 _THIS,_ Pyrrha thought, _THIS is why I do what I do. Not for awards or accolades or the fame…it's to protect people like-_

"we've got to go, NOW." Sun's voice suddenly filled her ear, snapping her out of her thoughts. The redhead turned in surprise to see the Faunus and Neptune standing next to her, her accumulated bags in their hands and worried looks on their faces. She cocked an eyebrow at them, confused.  
"Don't you think we should explain to the police?" Pyrrha replied. She turned to point up the road "I think they'll want to talk to-"

"It's not the police I'm worried about." Sun cut her off as she turned back to face him. With a gesture of his head, he indicated the other side of the street. Pyrrha turned to see what he was talking about.

Her eyes widened and she froze in place as she saw the large and still growing crowd: with her attention focused on the little girl, she hadn't seen quite how…LARGE, it had become.

Their attention not on the Mother and Daughter or on the clock tower above…

But on… her.

Flashes of scroll cameras suddenly filled the air like gunfire, and a dull roar began to emanate from the mass of people as excited looks filled the faces she could make out. Across the short distance, she began to hear her name echoing in the air.

"Oh no…" she murmured, still unmoving. She clutched Jaune's Hoodie tighter against her chest as an unfamiliar-and unwelcome-feeling of terror suddenly filled her, and memories of press conferences and public outings gone wrong came to her mind…  
"Someone in that Huntress group must have talked after all" Neptune said glumly.  
"Or someone zoomed in on her face with a camera when she swung the little lady across." Sun replied as he took Pyrrha's hand "either way, we'd better move before the news crew's arrive."  
"news crews?" Pyrrha replied in disbelief, as she shook herself out of her stunned state.  
"Not much excitement goes on in these parts, P!" Sun shot back as he started to pull her away "this scene must have drawn the whole town, and when we heard people start gasping your name we knew the jig was up!"  
"and goodness knows those jackals all want a piece!" Neptune added as he slipped protectively behind the redhead.

As the three teens began to move away, they heard sudden shouts of alarm, and one distinct cry of "she's getting away!" across the air.  
From behind them, the trio heard the crowd surge forwards, and the sound of running footsteps began to fill the air. They didn't dare look back: they didn't need to, to know what was coming. The crowd of screaming fans charged after the teens, Pyrrha's name echoing through the air like a battle cry.  
The three police officers were swept aside as they tried to intervene, the two men and the woman pushed out of the way like a picket fence before a tidal wave.

"We need to run, NOW!" Neptune said fearfully as the three broke into a sprint. The mob was almost right on their heels, and more heads poked out from the overhead apartments that sat above the shops and restaurants, wondering what the fuss was about.

With Pyrrha's skirt flapping about her legs, Jaune's Hoodie clutched to her chest like it was a baby, the teens dashed down the street, fear clear on their faces as they heard the roar of the camera-toting mob behind them.  
Pyrrha heard her name echoing up the length of the road, and shook her head despairingly as she ran.  
"I was afraid of this!" she cried as she suddenly pulled Neptune and Sun into an alleyway between two of the buildings that lined the street. The crowd tried to follow the three, only to get in each other's way as camera flashes lit up the darkness. A few people were wedged into the opening, effectively cutting off further pursuit from that direction.

The three didn't slow down, Sun and Neptune surrounding Pyrrha protectively as they each took one of her hands. The more distance they could put between them and the mob, the better. Now, if they could just get to the end of the alleyway…

"AH!" Pyrrha cried as her bad calve, the one that had cramped that morning, abruptly tried to fold itself in half the wrong way. The appendage failed her and she crumpled to the ground. Sun and Neptune actually dragged her for a few inches in their momentum before they stopped to pull her to her feet.  
Ignoring the dirt that now smeared her dress and the holes the fall had ripped in her stockings, the three, Pyrrha almost draped over the boys' shoulders, managed to resume a reasonable trot as they continued, Pyrrha clutching Jaune's Hoodie in a death grip.

"My leg-!" Pyrrha forced out through clenched teeth as she hobbled along. Sun and Neptune glimpsed at each other nervously as Pyrrha sucked in breaths, trying to support herself.

"Come on" Sun ordered as he and Neptune all but carried the struggling redhead out of the alleyway: they were on one of the side streets that surrounded the square now; virtually deserted due to the hubbub they'd left behind. This lane was lined with condominiums and cottages, and the three could-just-hear the ocean in the distance.

Plopping down on a convenient Bus Stop bench, Pyrrha groaned and tried to stretch out her leg. She bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut at she clutched at the screaming calve.  
"The landing used up my Aura..." she forced out, her leg clearly in agony: the impact and the loss of the healing properties of her aura made her cramp come storming back with a vengeance.

"All that sugar can't have helped either." Sun said as he knelt beside her and began to massage the afflicted cramp. Neptune stood by, listening for the approach of the crowd. All three had heard gasps of alarm from the mob when Pyrrha had fallen.  
"They're breaking loose" Neptune said, his tone foreboding as he stepped over to his companions "we've got maybe a minute before they're on us: I think they're trying to go around the other side of the block."  
"If they cut us off from the beach we'll never get out of here." Sun replied, his eyes focused on Pyrrha's leg.  
"What do we do?" Pyrrha asked miserably, shaking her head as she slumped on the bench, letting Sun work "I'll just slow you guys down, you'd better-"  
"Not a chance" Sun replied as he continued administering to her leg, not caring his swift rubbing of her calve was further shredding her already-torn pantyhose "we don't leave friends behind."

Sun looked up at Pyrrha, smiling reassuringly as he felt her cramping muscles start to relax…slightly. He kept his grin firmly on her face until she managed to force a smile of her own.  
Not caring that that smile was pushed through clenched teeth and sweat drops were beading on Pyrrha's forehead, Sun let his mind go to work, planning and strategizing like he did on the battlefield. She looked down at him, meeting his gaze, and he couldn't help but notice the slight plea that managed to make it's way out from under her facade of control. Despite her directive for them to flee, it was clear she desperately wanted them to stay with her.

"Alright" Sun said, as he and Neptune each took one side of her, wrapping arms over her shoulders and taking her weight onto them as they pulled her to her feet, her shopping bags in their other hands.  
"We're gonna have to do some evading."

[=]  
The three had been dodging the crowds ever since, ducking into alleyways and behind dumpsters. Those few times they'd ducked into stores, excited clerks had called out Pyrrha's name, forcing the teens to flee once more.

Eventually, to Neptune's dismay, they'd been forced down to the beach, though thankfully the tide was out. It had been Sun's quick thinking that had resulted in Neptune and Pyrrha ducking under the boat: just in time, too, as another group of Pyrrha's fans had come racing up the beach road: word had spread rapidly, and more mobs were running about, headed for the center of town.  
With the famous heroine out of sight, they hadn't given the Faunus on the beach a second glance as they'd raced on.

With a wait of at least two hours, Pyrrha, with little else to do, had taken a catnap while she huddled with Neptune under the boat. Holding tightly onto Jaune's sweater, she let his scent and the sound of the waves drown out her tension and the small sparks of terror that filled her mind. Neptune had continued massaging her aching leg, and the sensations of his fingers had further lulled her into sleep.

Aside from the fact that she'd ruined Jaune's sweater, which had her on the verge of tears in its own right, in truth, she'd always hated crowds of her adoring fans. While she would never begrudge people a sight of their hero, there was a line that many were all too willing to cross to get something from her, something imbued with her "essence." She'd lost count of how many times a glove had been yanked from her arm, one of her earring-chains had been snapped off, even one time one of her headbands (she owned several) had been stolen right off her head at a charity event.  
Such things had made her…edgy, around large groups of people. She always felt tense whenever she had to walk into a room full of strangers.

It was so very hard to trust people…

[=]

When Sun had given the All-clear, the three teens had made their way up the beach, dodging from rock to rock until they reached the far end of the shore. A Police car had slowly rolled by, but Sun had decided that it would be better if they weren't noticed, and had kept Pyrrha and Neptune silent as the cruiser had trailed past and finally disappeared.

Helping Pyrrha, with her still bad leg, up the rocks at the end of the beach, they'd snuck through a cottage backyard and onto the road out of town.  
Pyrrha had been huffing by that point: her leg was clearly still paining her and neither boy had hesitated to help take her weight onto their shoulders. Sliding Jaune's Hoodie into the shopping bag, Pyrrha hadn't resisted their assistance.

The sugar rush had long since worn off, and Pyrrha's characteristically introverted nature had come storming back with a vengeance as, still leaning on the two for support, they made her way up the road towards her house. They'd had to duck into another alleyway as another News van had sped past, but had been undisturbed ever since.

Darkness had closed in as the sun had set over the horizon, and the gentle buzz of insects came to the teen's ears as they ambled along. They had left Rivienne far behind at this point, and the cliffs overlooking the sea below seemed to be the edge of the world in the growing darkness.  
The three had been silent for much of the journey: Pyrrha's growing despondency had left the two boys feeling awkward, to say nothing of guilt-ridden: it had been their idea to go into town in the first place.

"I honestly never knew you were THAT much of a big deal, P." Neptune said at last, a bemused tone forced into his voice as he took her full weight to give Sun a break. Pyrrha said nothing in reply for a long moment. She seemed to be folded in on herself, her head hanging and bangs hiding her eyes as she hobbled along.

"Pyrrha?" Sun asked as he stepped closer to his companion. She looked up at the Faunus, and he was stunned to see tears at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, guys." Pyrrha whispered, despair in her voice "you just wanted a nice day, and… (Sniff)"

"hey, hey!" Sun said as the redhead wiped at her eyes "none of that. We managed to at least have some fun, after all…"  
Neptune patted the redhead on the back reassuringly, trying to elicit a response. Pyrrha remained silent, though she did raise her head...slightly.  
"And…" Sun went on, hefting the bag full of her assorted purchases "you've got plenty to remember the good times by."  
"yeah!" Neptune added "goodness knows this day was an adventure… and it was kinda fun…"  
"tssh…"fun…" Pyrrha mumbled, causing the two to fall silent once more.

Neither boy mentioned it, of course, but their shared realization as to WHY Pyrrha was so trapped in her home was much, much clearer to them now. The poor girl could barely leave her house without being mobbed by crowds. No wonder she was so sheltered, so unschooled in social matters.

She'd never had a chance to experience them in the first place.

"Well" Neptune said as he tried to straighten Pyrrha's hair "your disguise worked for a while…we can try a little more in-depth next time, maybe some wash-out hair dye, or-?"

"Next time?"

Neptune broke off as Pyrrha suddenly spoke, incredulity in her voice. She chuckled despairingly, shaking her head.  
"Guys…there's not going to BE a "next time…"  
"What do you mean?" Neptune asked "we were thinking maybe we could go into the city next weekend, go-"

"You don't understand…" Pyrrha almost sobbed as she shook her head harder, her scarlet locks dancing about in the early night.  
Pushing herself away from Neptune's shoulder, she turned towards the sea, wrapping her arms about herself. The two boys stopped, watching her in concern as her figure was highlighted by the distant light of the fading day. The Moon was just visible overhead, its chunks glittering like diamonds.

"My parents…if all this made the evening news…"  
Pyrrha's shoulders hunched, her head hanging low as she gripped her arms desperately.

"Oooh…They're going to be furious!"  
"Pyrrha?" Neptune ventured, worry in his voice. The redhead continued speaking as she leaned against one of the trees that lined the road, still folded in on herself.  
"I threw myself headlong into a dangerous situation, I look like a mess, I ruined Jaune's sweater, I-I almost started a Riot-" she continued, her body starting to tremble as terror and panic came to her tone.

"-everyone SAW me like this, I'll be lucky if they ever let me out of the house again!"  
Her head suddenly snapped up, her chin dropping: both boys could tell just from looking at her that she was staring out in horrified realization.  
"oh god… oh GOD,(sniff) they're going to take me out of Beacon, t-take me away from Jaun-"

Pyrrha's terrified rant cut off as, without warning, Sun dropped the bags in his hands and, stepping forward, spun her around and wrapped the redhead in a bone-crushing hug. She gasped in shock at the sudden embrace as his rock-hard abs pressed into her.

"for goodness' sake, Pyrrha...Listen to yourself."

Her emerald eyes, glistening with tears, widened at his sudden words, whispered directly into her ear.

"you sound like your about to be thrown in jail...and that's no way for someone to think about home."

Pyrrha was silent, her eyes trembling, as Sun paused for a moment, as though he were choosing his words carefully.

"Forge your own path, Pyrrha." Sun went on at last "goodness knows I did. You think it was easy for me, leaving my family behind to become a Huntsman? I was absolutely terrified the first day I left. All I could think about was leaving people behind, loved ones, friends…"  
He paused for another moment as he squeezed Pyrrha close, the redhead so stunned she couldn't even raise her arms to return the embrace.  
"But I was also brave, brave enough to know what I wanted…what I NEEDED, and to do whatever it took to get it."  
"and Here I am."

He pulled away from her, looking directly into her wide eyes.

"If you think...you KNOW... your parents are going to be that upset with you for just having fun, enjoying yourself, saving a little girl's life…maybe you need to do some forging of your own."

"You have great confidence and great skill in battle, Pyrrha." Neptune put in his two cents as he placed a hand on the stunned redhead's shoulder, smiling supportively "you just need to apply that courage to…well, everything else."  
"And your friends will always be there to back you up, no matter what happens." He went on concluded as, reaching into the shopping bag, he pulled Jaune's sweater out from its bulging confines, handing it to Pyrrha as he smiled reassuringly.  
"And I know Jaune would say the same if he were here. And, frankly, I don't think he'll be too upset about that arm."

Sun smiled as Pyrrha hesitantly took the torn sweater from his partner.  
"I mean, forgive me for saying so, P, but the way you talk your folks sound more like your managers!"

Pyrrha started, turning her gaze to Sun, whose smile faded as she stared at him with wide, shocked eyes.  
"sorry" he said hastily "I-I didn't mean to-"

Pyrrha didn't hear the rest of Sun's stammered apology as her mind was suddenly dropped into a whirlpool.

 _"The way you talk your folks sound more like your managers!"_

A storm of old memories came flooding into her mind, as recollections of her parent's words filled her mental ear...years of work, work, work, Training with her mother, going from photo shoots to pageants to magazines, all to achieve...achieve...

 _"you need to focus on your training!"_

"you have to think of your image!"

"-you've no time to waste on those frivolous books, come on, get your armor on!"

 _"- Oh, dear, this is no time for those dusty old movies, you need to rest! I've got a new marketing campaign lined up-"  
_  
 _"-we'll start your combat drills early tomorrow-"  
_  
 _"-you'll need a hair appointment before your photo shoot tomorrow-"  
_ _  
_  
 _ _"You're a WINNER, Pyrrha, and Winners don't quit, nor do they waste any time!"__

"you're a celebrity, dear, you need to pay attention to how you present yourself!"

 _"-no, no, NO! what was that?! come on, get up, we'll try it again!"  
_  
 _"-oh no, no, that won't do at all! more highlighting around her eyes, she needs-"_

"-why on Remnant are you crying? don't think those tears are going to sway me, we're doing this until you get it right!

 _"no, no... Dear, wait, are the lights too bright? your eyes are watering! hold on, Makeup, over here, we've got to get this right!"_

 _"get it right!"_

 _"get it right!"_

 _"GET IT RIGHT!"_

years of effort and training to turn her into the unstoppable force, the "invincible girl" the icon of Huntresses the world over...

and at what cost?

Memories of whispered statements to those few who had contemplated approaching her dug themselves out of the depths of her mind...

 _"Pyrrha Nikos? aw man, she'd never notice guys like us, forget it man..."  
_

 _"she's won the Mistral championship for the last three years, and is ready to win a fourth!"_

 _"ah, she's probably some kinda workaholic."_

 _"you think she got those muscles going shopping? puh-LEEZE girl, she's some kind of musclehead, probably spends all her time in the gym!"_

 _"oh please, you think she'd have time for screwin' around like this? come on man, the movie starts soon!"_

She stared down at the black material of Jaune's hoodie, the gleaming yellow twin-crescent on the breast, the orange interior, as her thoughts went flying back to that day, not so long ago, when she'd stood with Jaune on the balcony above the ballroom, and first confessed one of her deepest, heartfelt truths to him.

 _"I've been blessed with incredible talents and opportunities; I'm constantly surrounded by love and praise; but when you're placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become separated from the people that put you there in the first place. Everyone assumes I'm too good for them - that I'm on a level that they simply can't attain. It's become impossible to form any sort of meaningful relationship with people."  
She turned to Jaune's surprised expression, her gown sweeping about her long legs. Her voice took on a slight hitch as she continued.  
"That's what I like about you: when we met, you didn't even know my name; you treated me like anyone else. And thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime."  
She was unable to keep a hint of the frustration she felt out of her voice as she finished, turning away from Jaune and heading back towards the ballroom.  
"I guess, you're the kind of guy I wish I was here with - someone who just saw me for me."_

"… _someone who just saw me…_

[=] _  
_

"… For me."

"Hmm?" Sun said.  
Pyrrha started suddenly, her head snapping up to meet the gaze of her companions…

…no…her friends…friends who, at Jaune's urging, had gone out of their way to come find her, to make sure she was safe, who had answered her desperate call for help she wasn't sure she'd even made…who'd protected her, stood by her as she'd been forced to run for her own safety, and were now practically carrying her back home-

"There's one more thing."

Turning her full gaze to Neptune, she watched him draw out his scroll, opening the device and pressing a few keys.  
"We weren't sure if we were going to share this with you…" he said hesitantly, as Sun's smile faded. "but…I think you need to hear it."  
Punching in a command, he held up the scroll as another voicemail, static-filled and garbled, began to play. Her eyes widened further still as familiar voices came to her ears.

"-ot sure it even went throu-…-ething's wrong with the signa-…-amnit! Why?! Why did I leave her?!"

 _Jaune!_

"Jaun-…" came Ren's unmistakable monotone. The rest of his words were swallowed by static, and a different voice came next.  
"Pyrrha's gonna be fin-…" _Nora!_ "…-e's more than a ma-…-nything that comes her way!"  
"then why did she ask for help-…" Jaune's voice came again, sounding like a demand "…-e should have made the transport turn around, made sure she was oka-…"

The rest of the message was swallowed in white noise, and, when the scroll beeped, Neptune folded it up and put it away.  
"I think they left the recording on even after the sent the message, and it got carried through as the CCTS signal tried to stay online." He said. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

She was standing, stock-still, as she stared at the two who had come to her side when she needed friends the most…and now they had revealed to her that Jaune was not only overcome with worry, but was beating himself up over it.

Jaune would…be…

…be…

…hmm…

...

"Thank you."

Both boys looked at each other for a moment as Pyrrha finally spoke. Stepping forwards, she suddenly wrapped her arms around the pair of them for a quick second, before she stepped over to her bags, turning towards the pair.

"There's something I've got to do, guys. It's going to hurt-a lot-but…"

She clutched Jaune's sweater close to her breast, biting her lower lip for a moment as she paused. But then, when she looked up to meet their gaze, she was smiling a small smile, and had a determined look in her eyes.

"…If I'm ever going to live…I've got to do it."

"Is there anything we can do?" Neptune asked, stepping forwards. Pyrrha shook her head, her small smile still on her lips.  
"You've both already done so much, more than you realize. I can't thank you enough. But I've got to get home…there's a lot I've got to do."

"here, we'll help you-" Sun began as he reached towards her bags, but Pyrrha held up a hand.

Sliding Jaune's Hoodie over her head, her bare arm looking almost comic in the truncated sleeve, she bent down and picked up the shopping bags, thoughts filling her mind…plans…

"If this did make the evening news…I doubt My Parents will be happy to see you." Pyrrha said quietly. She turned away from the boys, facing up the street leading to her house. She started to take a step, but hesitated for a moment.

Then, smiling to herself, she turned and slipped Sun's sneakers off. As she stood in her stocking feet, she set one of her bags down, picked the shoes up and handed them to her Faunus companion.  
"I'm afraid we're going to have to rain check those days out, guys." She said. Her gaze became apologetic as she turned to Neptune "and sorry, Nep, but the movie's going to have to wait as well."

"What are you going to do?" Neptune asked, unable to hide the touch of disappointment in his voice as Sun reclaimed his sneakers. Pyrrha smiled reassuringly at him, but shook her head.  
"If I told you…I don't think I could go through with It." she said, to herself as much as to her companions. But she smiled a strong smile as she looked between them.  
"Have a slurp for me, guys. I'll see you in the fall."

"Fall?" Sun echoed, as Neptune stepped nervously forwards "Pyrrha, what are you going to do?"

The redhead stared at the two, her eyes full of emotion as she drew in a breath.

"Like you said, Sun." she replied, a slight hitch in her voice "I know what I need…and I'm going to get it."

With a fierce grin that looked so forced, but at the same time so very strong, Pyrrha turned and, grabbing up her shopping bags, Jaune's ruined Hoodie covering her torso, she strode confidently down the road in her shredded pantyhose, her dirtied dress flapping about her athletic legs, her hands clenched firmly around her purchases.

The smeared face paint on her cheeks gleamed in the low light, and the few flowers still in her hair trailed behind her in the low breeze.

One could be forgiven for thinking she was marching into battle.

Both boys watched, silent and still, until long after Pyrrha disappeared into the darkness, the last rays of the sun had faded and the night had closed in around them, the chirping of crickets the only sound in the dim evening…as an unseasonable chill rolled up from the sea.

(AN:  
We're gonna leave Pyrrha for a bit here. The next few chapters are gonna focus more on what some of her friends are up to.

I decided to re-write this chapter because, as I re-read what I originally posted, it struck me as…too off, for Pyrrha. While she'd certainly jump to the rescue of the innocent, jumping into the original situation like that didn't sit right.

These past two chapters also go by the assumption that the Kingdom that sought to destroy all art in the Great War was Mantle, the kingdom that is today known as Atlas. This will feature heavily later on.

Please forgive me about these chapters, if they seem awkward or anyone seems OOC: I needed to set up some things that happen later in the story, so all this was necessary. There's going to be a Big Change for Pyrrha coming up, and she's going to be making some hard choices. )


	11. Chapter 10: Secrets at the Gate

_Atlas Border Outer Defense Wall, Gate 215, Two days later._

"Of all the nights to land with picket duty..."

Private Reno Sandman shivered in the open-air guard house that stood behind the electrified fence, hugging himself as he trembled under the barrage of cold air that whistled through the large holes that served as windows. Beyond the small wooden shelter, the automated functions of a large wire gate stood like sentinels, impervious to the cold.

Beyond the fence was...nothing. The emptiness, a cleared area that extended back over a mile, that would be the only warning he would receive in the event of a Grimm attack.

That is, if he didn't die of hypothermia first.

Like all Atlesian troops, he wore the face-covering helmet with its built-in heads-up display, black tunic and trousers, armor plates and combat boots, the shoulder and torso plates picked out in the colors denoting his rank. The boxy shape of his laser rifle hung from his shoulder, with its matching pistol holstered on his waist. Of course, as befit the season, the tunic and trousers were SUMMER issue... and the weather was anything but.

The early Autumnal season in most nations of Remnant was sometimes referred to as the "Atlesian Summer." The nomenclature certainly fit, as Atlas' excuse for a mid-year warm period gave a mockery to the name. Temperatures rarely rose above freezing in the northern climate: it wasn't for nothing that most of the nation s territory was covered in ice. Even in the small temperate zone that trailed down towards Vale, where most of Atlas infrastructure and habitation was located, the season held an unseasonable chill. Harsh breezes were commonplace, and even an unexpected snowfall was not unheard of on the northern fringes of the settled area. Very little business went on outside the safe, enclosed and above all HEATED confines of the inner city buildings: even open air parks were a misnomer, greenhouses would be a more appropriate term. Any farming was conducted in hydroponics facilities, controlled animal facilities and heavily regulated purification plants. Ice meltoff from the glaciers ensured the Kingdom would never run out of fresh water. Habitats for the citizens were in large, almost bunker-like apartment complexes, each capable of holding thousands in cozy comfort, provided with the latest in amenities. Summer clothing was of a type that most would consider autumnal, or even winter attire.

Indeed, the Summer issue uniforms of the armed forces could be considered winter issue by, say, the Vale Rangers: winters in that country were certainly not known for being calm affairs. But the thermals were-just-a bit weaker, the materials were-just-a bit less wind-proof. No major issue in, perhaps, Mistral, but in Atlas efficiency and bureaucracy demanded summer uniforms be issued in summer.  
Aand Private Sandman was feeling the consequences. He reflexively grabbed his crotch as another gust ripped into him: any more like that and his balls were likely to crawl back up into his pelvis.

Of course, his position and duties might cause that unwelcome affect as well...

He moaned to himself as he shivered: Border defense on the outer national perimeter, manning a gate on the almost laughably pathetic electrified wire fence? this was punishment, nothing else but. But what could he expect? He, along with the rest of his squad, had allowed a fugitive to sneak into Beacon tower and do something, to the CCTS system installed there. And, on top of that, they d then allowed her to escape. And he was SURE it was a she, no male he d ever seen could fill out a catsuit like that.

He didn't even have the excuse that she'd snuck up on him, not like Harvey had: nope, Reno had watched the elevator door open, revealing the figure-and WHAT a figure-standing before him and Silbern, and had stared dumbly as she d simply strutted in, the leather of her suit shining in the overhead lights. Of COURSE, of all nights to forget the Wi-Fi password...he'd handed it right to her, too.  
And...he couldn't remember much after that. He'd woken up to see the enraged face of General Ironwood as his superior violently shook him, the sounds of a fight echoing down from the floors above. As he d staggered to his feet, he'd observed the rest of his squad slowly regaining their senses as Ironwood himself ascended in the elevator to see what was going on.

Barely a few moments later, the General had radioed down to the men that the intruder had escaped, just as Reno had seen an all-too-familiar figure dashing towards the massive ballroom of Beacon academy. Managing to pull Harvey to his feet, the two had given chase, dashing past their comrades who were still recovering their senses. However, just when they thought they had the woman cornered...

Reno still flinched at the memory of Harvey and he barging into the Ballroom in pursuit of the woman-he thought he d stepped on some broken glass, by the sound his footfalls made-only to see that she had disappeared.  
All he and Harvey could see where Hunter trainees gaily twirling about the room, laughing and carousing. Even seeing the famous Pyrrha Nikos laughing at some blonde guy wearing a dress hadn't been enough to brighten his mood. Stan and Earl, who had been at the dance escorting the General and one of Atlas students (Penelope, or something like that) said they hadn't seen anyone matching the description of the woman enter the ballroom. Earl thought he recalled a Haven student, a young woman with a haircut that matched the description Reno had given, showing up at the exact moment Reno said the intruder had entered the ballroom, but there would have been no way she could have changed out of her cat suit and into the voluminous ball gown she'd been wearing in the literal seconds the intruder was out of sight before the two privates entered the vast building behind her. A search of each student had been ruled out, out of a desire to avoid panic or unnecessary scrutiny by the Vale council. And so the mystery went unsolved.

Needless to say, General Ironwood had not been best pleased: Reno and the others had subtly checked themselves to make sure they still had skin left after the tongue-lashing they d received. They d been packed off back to Atlas that same day, informed in no uncertain terms that they d been reassigned. Reno had privately bemoaned this fate: he was a career soldier, lucky enough to have made it through the academy, and to screw up so badly he d only been thankful his failure hadn't resulted in harsher punishments. And as for his new duties...

How the thin metal fence, electrified or no, was supposed to stop a swarm of Grimm? That wasn't his concern. Turning to look over his shoulder, Sandman could-just-see the impressive edifice of the hundred-foot-tall reinforced border wall in the distance: the real obstacle to any errant interlopers. Automated weapons turrets, Paladin units and other heavy weapons added sting to the shield. In so many ways, the fence was more an early warning than any attempt at real defense. A few blockhouses, some barbed wire barricades all of these, the men knew at the back of their minds, were so much for show.

Well, guarding the perimeter of Atlas, protecting the citizens from the Grimm, was surely a high honor, yes. He and the other wall guards were the first line of defense for the kingdom, the first obstacle intruders had to cross to access the interior of Atlas. They, Reno and the others, were the first stage of protection for the citizens. That is, if he survived long enough to actually DO anything.

Or, he thought to himself as another cold breeze tore into him, if he didn't turn into an iceblock first.

He sometimes, as he did now, in the long, dull moments between rare Grimm sightings and inspections, pondered at what had happened in the tower: it didn't seem to add up, what was the woman doing? What had she been after, what-?

A low rumble from the road BEHIND him drew him back to the present. This was unique, and immediately set him on alert: while the train lines that ran to some of the military outposts farther outside the kingdom had access ports through the walls, those runs were few and far between. And in the months since he'd taken up station on the wall, not a single vehicle had come up the road, into or out of the Walls. His usual transport to and from the barracks was by Bullhead.

Reno turned away from the empty distance, facing back towards the kingdom as he observed a long line of lights appear, heading up the road toward the gate... towards HIM. A cloud of dust trailed behind them: more than one vehicle then, clearly. The low growl of truck engines filled his ears like the prowling noises of Grimm hordes, and he suppressed a shiver at the comparison.

As duty demanded, he stepped out of the guard house and onto the road, holding his rifle at the ready and raising a hand to order the vehicles to stop. As unusual as the situation was, his training and duties demanded he inspect the oncoming convoy. Orders were clear: nothing got out of the gate without command authority. He d not heard anything from Central command about any shipments, either suspicious.

The vehicles drew closer, the rumble of their engines echoing across the empty distance, their headlights glowed like the sun through the dust clouds they were throwing up. It gave the convoy an almost ghostly veil, like spirits on some dark mission. They showed no sign of slowing down .

At the back of his mind, something that training should have drummed out of him, a voice told him that, if this WAS an attack, how was one guy supposed to stop a convoy of trucks? His eyes briefly flashed to the panic button on his belt, as the headlights on the approaching trucks began to light him up: a wireless beacon to central HQ to warn them of any danger. He hoped he could hit it if he had to jump clear-

And then, just when he was afraid that he might have to jump out of the way, the Convoy slowed to a halt, the heavy spot lamps on their fronts glaring into Reno's face. Even through his HUD filters he had to squint.  
Looking again, Reno could see the lead vehicle was a Command car, a small 4x4 truck used to carry small squads of men or officers, as the uniform of the man who stepped out clearly indicated he was.  
Behind the car was a Halftrack, a box-like armored transport vehicle that was propelled by a set of caterpillar tracks while a pair of tires at the front was used to steer. Out of the open roof Reno could see the peaks of Atlesian combat helmets like his own: the troop seating bed was filled to capacity, and another trooper stood behind a vicious-looking automatic weapon on a ring mount offset to the right of the driver's area. The blast shutters on the doors and windshield were down, hiding the interior from view.  
Behind the halftrack, long line of heavy duty 6x6 trucks, beastly machines with long beds and huge tires stood, their beds hidden by thick canvas tarps. No sounds came from within them. Reno raised an eyebrow inside his helmet, saluting as the officer stepped forward: these machines were old Mantle Motors units, the logo of the defunct kingdom still embossed onto their radiator faces. They were beyond old, virtually antiques: most military transport was conducted in the air these days. He felt another chill go up his spine as the rumble of their idling engines pulsed over him like waves.

The Officer strode up to the Private, who still stood at salute, which he finally replied to. The man towered over Private Sandman, with a long, sharp face that put Reno in mind of a dagger. His eyes were a piercing ice blue, and a scar ran over his left cheek. Underneath his peaked cap Reno could just see close-cropped blonde hair. The Officer, who Reno could now see by his rank pins was a Major, regarded the Private with his cold gaze. If Reno's balls hadn't been frozen before, they certainly were now.  
"What's the matter, Private?" the Officer asked: his voice was cold and crisp, and held a trace of the upper-crust tones of old Mantle Nobility. He was clearly annoyed.  
Bucking up courage (this man looked like he could use Reno to pick his teeth) the Private came out with a straightforward military answer.

"Apologies, sir: no one gets out without command approval. I'll have to see some authorization, and to get permission from central to allow you to leave the protected area."

The officer stared at Reno with his cold, cold eyes, looking for all the world like he was ready to stomp the Private down and throw him under the wheels of the massive trucks. But then, with an exasperated sigh, he reached into his coat, withdrawing not a familiar scroll or other such datapad, but an old written scrip order. Unfolding it, he handed it to Reno with an annoyed expression.  
"Not even considered important enough to use data space on." The Officer muttered as Reno took the sheet and began to scan it's contents.

The first thing he noticed was the letterhead: the logo of Atlas central command, the personal desk of Military High Commander Sandwick Reed. Reno felt his spine straighten just by reading that name: as supreme commander of the Atlas armed forces, Reed was more or less the absolute dictator of the Kingdom of Atlas. His word was law, and he had the power to change the course of any of the citizen's lives...or make them vanish. He was so wrapped up in those thoughts that, even as he scanned the rest of the document, much of it didn't register in his mind: something about a dumping of some excess refuse, a failure at one of the waste processing facilities in the inner city. Well, that explained the trucks: what better use for such old antiques? Any airborne refuse removal would leave a trail of stench to settle on the city. The dumping was assigned to Logistics unit 137, a common enough name in the Atlesian battle order. Wherever Atlesian troops were deployed, Unit 137 could usually be mentioned in some capacity: the unit was a lot of paper pushing, desk-sitting types, logistics orders and so forth, some of the unsung heroes that kept an army moving from behind the lines. Though Reno wasn't sure just WHAT the unit actually did...

In any case, the unit had sought the permission of Reed's office to leave the settled area for this apparent dumping mission, and a recommendation from Reed's office to go at night and by truck was tacked onto the bottom. Straightforward enough. Reed's personal signature at the bottom affirmed it, and Reno could only nod. Whatever the oddness of the situation was, it was above his head.  
"Seems straightforward enough." He said, as he folded the papers over "Sorry to keep you waiting, sir."

"It's alright soldier" the Officer said as he reclaimed the papers,"Do your duty: that's what we ask of you."  
"Understood, sir." Sandman replied, as he turned back towards the guard house.

That was the last thing he did.

Reno's mind registered the sound of the gunshot. It registered something hitting him in the back of the head. Strangely, there was no pain, as he crumpled to the ground, rolling into an unnatural position, his head hanging at an odd angle. His vision was distorted: it was like one of his eyes had gone blind. He realized that he couldn't breathe, but strangely, he felt no panic, just a strange sense of wrongness. A wrongness only compounded as he felt himself being lifted bodily.

As his one good eye lolled about, he could just make out the officer wiping down the barrel of his sidearm, as one of the troopers, likely from the halftrack, stepped into the guardhouse in Reno s place. He reached down to the control panel, and Reno vaguely registered a small bleating alarm, one that indicated the gate was being opened.

He felt himself be dragged past the command car and the halftrack, and past the first of the trucks to it s tail end. Still held up in the air, his body limp, he vaguely registered another trooper appear and, unlatching the tailgate of the truck, lower it down and pull the canvas cover aside.

Reno felt himself be casually tossed into sudden darkness, lit only by the dim light from outside the truck. And then that light was gone as the cover was slid back into place and the tailgate was closed with a dim *CLANG* in Reno s ears.

The private, still overwhelmed with a sense of wrongness, lay on the floor of the truck; he began to notice something odd. Strange how, despite the fact that he couldn't move, or see out of one eye, or be able to breathe, he could still notice anything. All around him, sitting motionless, not even seeming to take note of the man who had been casually thrown into their midst, were people. They sat like statues on the seats in the back of the truck, their legs together, hands in their laps, eyes fixed straight ahead. More soldiers? No, Reno s fading mind said, unless uniform budgets have really gone down the tubes. He couldn't see much, between the darkness and-oh damn, his other eye was starting to go-but he could tell from the vague feeling where his head was pressed up to the forest of legs that they were dressed in an eclectic mix of fabrics, none of it military issue and all of it very, very worn.

As Reno's own mind began to fade, he stared at these figures, their lifeless eyes and worn, ragged clothes, and his last thought came as the darkness closed around him.

 _What is a logistics group like unit 137 doing with a bunch of Academy washouts and beggars?_

[=]

(AN: yeah, a shorty this time. But I hope this is keeping people interested. as I said last chapter, it s gonna be a bit before we see Pyrrha and our other heroes again, but the next few chaps are gonna have some familiar faces just you wait.)


	12. Chapter 11: Officers and Gentlemen

_Atlas central command._

"…and the latest PR operation should bring food distribution requirements down to the acceptable levels as outlined in the council's latest Ten-year plan."

General Ironwood nodded along with the other assembled staff of the Atlesian High Command as the representative officer of the Department of Logistics finished their report. As the thin Staff Officer sat back down in her chair, Ironwood briefly pondered at his presence, here in the darkened, steel-lined chamber that held the most influential people in Atlas.

Ironwood had been summoned from his station overseeing security for the Vytal festival to participate in the annual summer wargames, and to be present at the Bi-Annual meeting of the General's Staff. As the headmaster of Atlas Academy, Ironwood was one of the highest ranking members of Atlas' government, having inherited the role several years prior after the tragic murder of his predecessor.

Around him, at a vast meeting table surrounded by high-backed chairs, were Admirals, Generals, Administrators and Officers, all of them persons of high rank and prestige, or representatives of such people. Atlas' Government believed in military efficiency, and that was what it got: none of Vale's bureaucracy or Mistral's parliamentary infighting or Vacuo's gerrymandering-wracked congresses:  
The people in this room made the decisions. Streamlined the process of government. Gave the orders.  
And those orders were obeyed. That's what soldiers DID, after all.

However important they were, though, the meetings could sometimes be quite tedious affairs. Ironwood shifted slightly in his hard seat: his ass was starting to fall asleep from sitting for so long.

"Thank you, Commander." A deep, wizened voice spoke from the shadows at the head of the table, their speaker barely visible in the low light, "And now, General Ironwood, what have you to report on the matters of the upcoming Vytal Festival?"

The general's eyes looked towards the far end of the room, where the muscular bulk of High Commander Sandwick Reed, supreme commander of the Atlesian armed forces-and by that nature, the de facto leader of all of Atlas-sat in a well-cushioned command chair, flanked by a pair of his personal staff officers. The Admiral's scarred face, the red lens of his cybernetic eye glinting in the low light, his silver hair cut short in a military crew cut, peered across the vast chamber to fall on the Academy headmaster. Medals of Valor glinted on his crisp uniform jacket, and the servos of his prosthetic left arm whirred in the silence of the room: unlike Ironwood, who hid his augmentations under a glove and a high collar, Reed wore the scars of his valor with pride. And goodness, he had earned them: the High Commander had begun his career as a Cadet when Atlas was still known as Mantle. Through the tumultuous years of the fall of the Old Kingdom and the reorganization into Atlas, Reed had slowly risen through the ranks, engaging both in front-line battles (as testified by his scars) and political wrangling. His contacts, counter-contacts, and counter-counter contacts had finally allowed him to secure an almost unassailable position in Atlas' hierarchy. No one could touch him. And those who DID…well, little was seen from them ever again.

In short, he was not a man to be trifled with. Ironwood owed his position to his relationship with Reed….and he and Reed both knew it.

Ironwood rose from his seat thankfully, trying not to let the mild discomfort of his stationary position show as he felt the eyes of the other officers' fall on him. He could feel Reed's eye scanning him closely as he began to speak.

"The Vytal festival's security measures have been doubled since the incursion into Beacon tower three months ago." Ironwood said as he leaned forward. He could feel the collective eyes of the General's staff on him: he knew the heat was up, considering what had happened a few months prior…  
"I have marshaled additional troops to secure Vale's borders, in cooperation with the Vale Rangers and local Huntsmen. We have sealed off all access points that lead to the abandoned sectors, and forbidden entrance by the Huntsmen academy students to those areas."

"What was Ozpin thinking, sending a team of rookies into a hellhole like Mountain Glenn…" one of the Generals muttered off to Ironwood's left.  
"Certainly made a mess of things." Another officer, an Admiral, replied.  
"Wasn't Eisen's daughter wrapped up in that fiasco?" another General commented. A murmur briefly ran through the assembled personnel.  
Ironwood himself fidgeted slightly: he still felt a touch of frustration over the affair of the Grimm Incursion led by Roman Torchwick. When Ruby Rose had offered up a hint to the location of the rebellious forces, he'd been prepared to deploy his fleet to conduct a deep search of the area of the abandoned Mountain Glenn.  
And then Ozpin had intervened and sent not a small specialist team, not even a team of professional Huntsmen, or even fourth year students.  
No. he had sent a team of FIRST years, headed by Professor Oobleck. Ironwood respected the hyperactive Doctor's intelligence, but he had always struck the General as more of an academic than a warrior.  
And what had come of Ozpin's interference?

The largest Grimm incursion into Vale in recent memory. Only his quick intervention with the bulk of his troops had prevented the swarm from spreading. The damage was still being calculated. To say nothing of the lives lost…

He had been barely able to contain his outrage, both at what had occurred and at Ozpin's impassiveness about the whole thing: did he really believe a bunch of children could-?

"ENOUGH."  
Ironwood snapped out of his thoughts with a start, the room falling silent as a tomb at Reed's booming voice, as the aged form of the Supreme commander loomed over the table from his command chair.  
"This idle chatter is irrelevant: Continue, James."

Ironwood swallowed hard before continuing: Reed was imposing at the best of times…and this certainly wasn't the best of times.

"In addition, the tests of Unit PR-9 are going well. It has surpassed many expectations, and will be more than prepared for its role in the festival. Dr. Polendina should be praised."  
A fresh murmur came from the assembled officers, but Reed's voice shut down any other outbursts.  
"I should hope it's performing!" the High Commander boomed "Damn clanker nearly cleaned out the R&D budget for the year!"  
Ironwood made a show of straightening his tie, letting the tidal waves of Reed's words wash over him before he continued. He had been one of the most ardent supporters of the Artificial Huntsman Project, in light of alarming developments in recent years…  
"She-IT, has proven the viability of the concept, Commander. Once Dr. Polendina works out the associated bugs we can move forward with mass-production. Combined with the Siphon we should be able to develop a suitable force by the end of the next Five-year Cycle. We have already begun filtration of the Academy: hopefully the candidates proposed will be deemed acceptable."  
"And the mental conditioning?" Reed replied, "How is that effort coming along?"  
Ironwood paused: he'd hoped the General wouldn't bring that up. The Mental Conditioning program had begun as a crash-course of behavioral modification in light of PR-9's…eccentricities.  
"Early stage observation is going well." Ironwood replied, "The screening process has already selected several candidates for the second stage. We should have more concrete results within two months, though a lack of proper oversight personnel is posing problems-"

"Need I remind you, James, that our whole operation was almost exposed because of PR-9's lack of self-control?"  
Ironwood swallowed hard as Reed paused, the red lens of his eye glowing like that of a Grimm in the shadows of the room.  
"PR-9 is quite capable, but we cannot have our units running off like impetuous children." Reed continued before Ironwood could reply, "I'm not entirely thrilled with its penchant for…socializing. Dr. Polendina thought it would be prudent to give the unit a self-aware personality independent of control circuits. I disagreed. It seems to have befriended one girl in particular-"  
"Ruby Rose, yes." Ironwood cut in, grateful for a change in subject, "She was the one who engaged the intruder into Beacon Tower and tipped us off to the enemy's presence in Mountain Glenn."  
From the shadows, Ironwood heard a pause, followed by an approving mumble from the High Commander.  
"Commendable girl. I understand she's only 15?"  
Ironwood nodded, using his scroll to project a Beacon ID photo of the red/black-haired girl onto the holo-pad set into the table. Ruby's silver eyes gazed out of the picture over the assembled officers.  
"Admitted to Beacon two years early, yes, for display of exemplary conduct and abilities. Professor Ozpin seems to have taken a keen interest in her." Said Ironwood.  
For a moment, Reed was silent.  
Almost…too silent, as he stared at the picture of the young girl. As though something about her had caught his attention…  
"Hmm…someone to keep an eye on" he said at last, "See if we can recruit her. But back to the main issue…" Reed continued, pressing a few buttons on the armrest of his chair, causing Ruby's picture to vanish "I feel it may be prudent for one of our own to keep a closer eye on PR-9: it WILL need a "team" to participate in the Festival, no?"  
Ironwood nodded.  
"That is correct, sir. I took the liberty of choosing a few potential candidates from teams stricken with "Failures." I will upload them to your console for your approval."  
Reed nodded, the red bulb of his eye bobbing in the darkness, before he continued.  
" And now, onto the other matter at hand as regards security: what of the change in the scheduling of the Festival?"  
Ironwood took a moment to adjust his tie once more before he continued: he'd only just been informed of the decision a few days before, and had spent most of the subsequent nights arguing with Ozpin and the Vale council and preparing his statements.

"The decision to move the festival to the beginning of the fall semester, rather than the end, was met with some concern by the Vale council and Professor Ozpin, but I impressed upon them the need for both tighter surveillance and a public morale booster in light of the recent attack on the Vacuo CCTS tower."

That last sentence sent the assembled officers back into murmuring. The recent attack on the Vacuo CCTS tower, besides plunging the world into a communications blackout at the worst possible time, was of deep concern to the Atlesian Military due to both who had been behind the attack…and what had apparently been lost. Shipping orders, locations of supply dumps, weapons shipment schedules…and for Ironwood and Ozpin, some very, VERY sensitive information….

"Do we have any confirmation as to who was behind the attack on the Vacuo Tower?" Reed asked the assembled commanders, waving Ironwood back into his seat.  
Opposite the Academy headmaster, a Colonel in the Intelligence service, stood, filing through her scroll as she began to speak.  
"Eyewitness accounts differ: some report seeing personnel in white Fang costume, while others state clear humans in plainclothes. They moved swiftly and efficiently: they clearly had a target in mind, but seemed to be going out of their way to be seen as White Fang, with frequent spray-paint stenciling and loud gestures and proclamations, as though trying to make sure all witnesses believed it was the White Fang. This lends credence to the theory that the real force behind the attack was-"

"Requiem."

The room hushed at Reed's spitting of the terrorist group name: "Requiem" had become a dirty word in Atlas. The organization seemed determined to stick its' nose where it most certainly didn't belong. Repeated skirmishes with squads of the black-uniformed "soldiers" dashing out of the woods and attacking Atlas outposts and supply dumps with antique weapons and disparate bands of middle-aged men and women, teenagers and children, mixtures of human and Faunus, often presenting accents out of every settled location on Remnant, had somehow managed to make severe dents in Atlas' military operations…to say nothing of morale.  
Somehow, the group's leader had fabricated a sizeable body of people who likely would have quickly fallen victim to the Grimm. To say nothing of his armed personnel…and just WHAT they had been up to…

"And what of this "Pyrrhos" character?" one of the shadowed figures seated around the table suddenly spoke up.  
At the sound of that name, Ironwood felt the collective spines of every officer in the room stiffen, his own included.  
"Can we be certain he is who our preliminary intelligence says he is?"

The Intelligence Colonel spoke again.  
"According to official reports, the subject in question managed to escape shortly after General Schnee's murder. Despite a complete lockdown of the building, he managed to make his way to the sewers and escape. While we cannot rule out cosmetic surgery, the subject's…augmentations do make him stand out."  
She paused, tapping a few icons into her scroll. Above the holopad, a pair of photos appeared. One was a grainy security camera image of a young man half-dressed in an Atlas army uniform, a strange, malformed arm clearly visible. His eyes were hidden by a shadowed brow, but a mane of scarlet hair was visible.  
The second image, on the other hand, was clearer and more identifiable. It looked like it was taken through a small hole in a tent wall, of a gaunt man hunched over a pile of scrolls and old books. A head of hair, the same scarlet and streaked with gold, was perched on his head.  
His back was to the camera, but his left arm was visible. Malformed, death-white, covered in Grimm-like marks….

Looking between the two pictures, it was clear to see they were the same man.

Another General, this one in the Marines, leaned forward.  
"That photo was taken at a Requiem outpost almost a year ago, after which he promptly disappeared, and our agent abruptly ceased contact. Our fact-finding missions to locate the "Requiem" main base have proven fruitless, as of late. All our agents are sniffed out and disposed of before they can report back to us or are sent to one of their smaller facilities: Neither brings us closer to our penultimate goal."

Reed leaned forward, his red eye flashing as his anger filled the room like a storm cloud.  
"I don't have to tell you all that, so long as that man is at large, so long as this organization of his exists, it is a dagger pointed at Atlas' throat…and all of ours."  
Ironwood reflexively swallowed at the imagery as Reed continued, his bionic eye seeming to scan the faces of everyone in the room. He reached out, tapping a broad finger on the table to punctuate his words.  
"I want this man found. I want General Schnee avenged. And I want a proper "requiem" for this organization."

For a long moment, the room was silent as the assembled heads nodded almost in unison.

"Good." Reed said. For a moment, his eye glanced away from the table as one of his aides leaned down and whispered in his ear.  
"I'm afraid…." He said as he suddenly rose to his feet, causing the others to leap out of their chairs, "…that I must close this meeting ahead of schedule. Something has come up that demands my attention. You are dismissed, return to your duties."  
With a _CLACK!_ Of boot heels coming together, the assembled officers snapped to attention and saluted. Reed, still hidden by the shadows, returned the gesture and turned away from the table.

At once, more than two thirds of the figures at the table vanished as their holograms winked out: Duties demanded their presence at their duty stations, and so they had been present via holo-avatar. Only Ironwood, Reed, and a few others had actually been "present."

The General gathered up his scroll and assorted paperwork, as did the others, and began to turn towards the door.  
"Ironwood!"  
The headmaster froze at Reed's bark of his name. Ignoring the other officers all but fleeing the chamber ahead of him, he straightened to attention as he turned back towards the head of the table. The oppressive red eye fell on him, and he suppressed a shiver.  
"I wish to speak to you in private tomorrow morning before your departure." Reed said. "We have a matter to discuss."  
Ironwood felt the oppressive eye upon him, like a laser burning a hole in his mind.  
"yes sir."

Reed's eye bobbed as he nodded, before he turned away and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Ironwood alone in the room.

For a few long moments, Ironwood stood there, his straight posture living up to his name.

Then the General let out a tremendous release of frustrated breath as he slumped back into his chair. He seemed to deflate, somewhat, pinching the bridge of his nose as he loosened his tie with his prosthetic hand. Despite the chill in the dark chamber he could feel sweat beading on his forehead.

"Sometimes I miss open combat." He muttered to himself.

"Oh come now, James."

Ironwood looked up in surprise at the sound of a new voice. Spinning the chair, his eyes widened as a woman stepped out of the shadows, arms crossed, heels tapping like ice picks on the marble floor. He met her gaze, and for an instant felt like a pair of ice picks had stabbed into his eyes.  
"Victoria!" he said in surprise, as he rose to his feet.

General Victoria Rosenholz strutted around the table, the click of her heels stabbing into Ironwood's ears.  
She was a striking woman, tall and leggy, and filling out her Atlesian Specialists' uniform perfectly. Her platinum blonde hair was cropped close, with not a single hair out of place over her knife-shaped face. A pair of petite lips, painted red, curled up in a smile that held not an ounce of warmth.  
Deep, Ice-blue eyes pondered the seated figure of the Academy headmaster as he sank back into his chair, sighing heavily as he massaged his forehead.  
"You didn't tell me you had returned." He said, calming his racing heartbeat as she came up and, spinning the adjacent chair to Ironwood's around, artistically settled into it, crossing her legs and laying her hands in her lap. Her smile never wavered.  
"I only just arrived an hour ago." She replied "The High Commander wished to speak with me in private before the meeting: I have a new duty assignment."  
Ironwood cocked an eyebrow at the woman as he waited for her to continue, meeting her ice-blue gaze: it felt…more tolerable, with one eye than with both.  
He and Victoria had formed a…unique partnership in their time together. Her first assignment with him had been akin to Glynda's role for Ozpin, after Ironwood had taken command of the Academy: overseeing the day-to-day affairs of the students at Atlas academy, dealing with the paperwork and admissions matters, combat rankings and so forth.  
But even then, the woman's abilities had struck a chord with the General. Her efficiency had impressed him, as had her…strange personality. He'd been surprised by how he'd missed her when she'd been reassigned to field work.  
Something about the woman was enticing…and at the same time frightening. Their closed-doors relationship had been going on for some time now…though Ironwood wondered at times just WHICH of them was getting the better end. To call their relationship "love" might be taking it a bit far: it was more a "mutual advantage" setup, both politically and…in other means. Victoria had possessed high-placed contacts that had in many ways been instrumental in ironwood's appointment to headmaster, though they both knew it had come down to Reed's decision.  
Though at times he wondered if Victoria's strange abilities could influence even the High Commander…

"I'll be returning with you to Vale. It seems Reed feels my…advice, will be welcome." She said at last.  
Ironwood's eyebrows raised at that: Victoria had been operating in a deep-cover operation for several months, tracking Requiem movements across northern Vale. She'd "gone dark" several times, to his consternation, but she'd always reemerged in short order, and her information had allowed Atlas to anticipate several attacks on their frontiers by Requiem and the White Fang.

"Well." He said at last," It will certainly be…interesting having you around." He replied at last. Victoria's face took on a sympathetic pout…except for her eyes. Those never seemed to lose their freezing fierceness.  
"Oooh, James." She cooed, "Are you saying you missed me?"  
Ironwood smirked at his partner as she switched her crossed legs, pressing down on the sudden sweat the movement created.  
"I won't lie…your…unique personality can be quite…stimulating, at times."  
She chuckled at that, though, as always, the warmth never reached her eyes.  
Warmth NEVER reached her eyes…  
"Well, it's always nice to know one is appreciated." She said as she leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Ironwood's face.  
"Quite so." Ironwood replied, feeling a slight sense of… relaxation, "Shall we order in at my apartment? The night should be lovely, the weather service tells me. We do need to…catch up."  
For a moment, her glacial gaze seemed to scan his entire face, and he felt a chill go up his spine that had nothing to do with Atlas' frigid climate.  
"Sounds enticing…" she replied at last, "But…later. I have a few last matters to attend to."  
For some reason, James felt a twinge of disappointment at her words. It must have shown, for Victoria tutted maternally.

"Oh James, be sensible." She said, rising from her chair and leaning forwards over the seated Ironwood.  
"We'll be seeing a lot more of each other for the foreseeable future…plenty of time for…"she continued, reaching across the space between them to straighten his tie with her deft fingers,"…catching up."  
Ironwood stared into her frozen eyes, trying to calm the rushing heartbeat the woman always seemed to induce. A woman like this…one look into her eyes would tell a clever man she was a powerful ally.  
Powerful…and dangerous. He harbored no illusions about his expendability to any plans she had.

of course, considering what BOTH of them were planning….

"We'll be departing for Vale early tomorrow, after I meet with the High Commander." Ironwood said, managing to keep a veneer of professionalism on his face even as Victoria's breath caressed his chin. She was close…VERY close…  
"I'll expect you to forward to me any intelligence reports on the matters regarding the security detachments, then," Victoria replied, still nose-to-nose with the General, her smile still on her crimson lips.  
"We'll need to be on the lookout for…" Ironwood began, pausing to take a breath, "…for any interference from Requiem…if they are behind the Vacuo attack…the information they stole could be-"  
The platinum-haired general silenced Ironwood with a finger to his lips. His eyes widened slightly as she gently shushed him, shaking her head slightly.

"Let me look into this myself" Victoria smiled seductively as she leaned in even closer to Ironwood's face, their eyes separated by mere inches.  
"I have a few agents in the field...even Reed doesn't know about them." She whispered, staring into Ironwood's gaze, "If Pyrrhos DOES have the information…if he knows about HER…it won't matter."

For a single, solitary moment, Ironwood contemplated throwing caution to the wind and sweeping Victoria away at that moment.

His ingrained professionalism banished those thoughts before they could even mature.

"If you say so…" Ironwood managed to say at last. 

'I do." Victoria whispered, before finally grazing his lips with hers.

[=]

Just a moment, just a single, barely perceptible touch. But it was all that was needed.

Such was how she manipulated men.  
Of course, having a pheromone-manipulation semblance and being drop-dead gorgeous to boot didn't hurt either. Men-and women-were like puppets to her whims. Those few she could not lure through her beauty and power, she dominated though their natural hormones.

And those few she could not manipulate at all…well, that's what having the de facto leader of Atlas and the Commandant of the Academy on your side were for.

Ironwood seemed to have melted into his chair, and she could swear she saw sparks flying from his prosthetics. She almost burst out laughing at how easily she played with him…if he wasn't so thick-headed she might actually have a challenge on her hands.  
But such was her life…and her ambitions. Getting Ironwood onto her side was the easy part: on the battlefield, the man was untouchable, in his element. As a commander, he gave off this veneer of control that few could match, aside from the High Commander himself.  
Ask him to function outside that sort of environment? You might as well as for unlimited shares in Schnee Dust for pennies on the Lien. One need only look at his pathetic attempts to assert himself over Ozpin…or that stuck-up witch Glynda.

Victoria knew full well who the controlling partner was in their relationship…and who was going to profit the most from it. Ironwood controlled the next generation of Atlesian Huntsmen…and the next generation of Atlesian soldiers.

She was going to mold them like clay…all the better to serve her goals… serve her… 

Victoria's eyes perked up, as though she had remembered something. Tugging on Ironwood's tie, she brought him back to the here and now.

"Winter is on your staff, isn't she?"

[=]

(AN: Another shorty, but developing some intrigue….)


	13. Chapter 12: Into the Lion's Den

_General Ironwood's Flagship, Pinnacle Base docking facility, Atlas._

"Sir?"

The Chief watch officer turned to regard one of the troopers manning the security monitors: with the ship currently stood down, pending General Ironwood's return, the bridge was mostly empty, with only the watch officer and a few ensigns manning the deck. The rest of the crew, save for a few security personnel and the engine room crew, were enjoying a brief shore leave after weeks of constant movement. The Watch Officer himself had just returned after an evening with his family.

Strolling over to the console, the Officer leaned over the trooper who had spoken, peering down at the screen.  
"What is it?"  
The trooper adjusted a few controls on her monitor, squinting her eyes as she looked closer at the image. The Officer recognized the long rows of identical cells on the screen as the ship's Brig.  
"I thought I saw something on the Brig deck a second ago, and Audio sensors picked up something weird…" the trooper said slowly, reversing the recorded image and playing it back in slow motion.  
"Weird?" the Officer parroted, his brow furrowing.  
"Yes sir, it almost sounded like glass breaking." The trooper replied as she kept her eyes on the screen.

The image of the brig crawled by, nothing of note appearing…  
wait…

"Ah, yes. I see it." the Officer said, noting the sudden shadow that crossed one of the Cells. It was a flicker, lasting barely a moment even on the slowed-down footage…but considering NOTHING was supposed to be moving down there…

And then came the sound: slowed down with the footage, but still discernible as the sound of something shattering, like a glass dropped on the floor.  
and the cell it seemed to come from…  
"That's Torchwick's cell, isn't' it?" the Officer said, a sudden urgency filling his voice, "Send a security team down there to have a look."

Within a few moments, a pair of security troopers, weapons drawn, were making their way carefully along the rows of cells that filled the ship's expansive brig, keeping alert for any sign of a prospective intruder. Their eyes were peeled: no one wanted to have the same stigma upon them as the guards on the Vale CCTS power possessed after the intrusion a few months before.  
Turning the corner, they moved to either side of the wide passageway where Torchwick's cell was located, pistols raised. Covering each other, they began to check each cell: as expected, the vast majority of the cells were empty, with only one or two occupied by drunken crewmen sleeping off their inebriation.  
Coming up to Torchwick's cell, the trooper closest peered inside through the observation slit. His eyes fell on a figure dressed in a dapper white coat, bright orange hair hanging over his eyes. A quiet sigh of relief left the guard's lips.

"Security dispatch 1: Confirm, Torchwick is still in his cell." He spoke into a wrist communicator, before double-checking that the lock on the door was still secure, and making his way along to join his partner.

As the two troopers continued on their patrol, neither of them could see the sly grin that crossed the feminine lips of the petite figure curled against the door of Torchwick's cell, out of sight of the guards, as she reached up and tucked a loose strawberry-pink strand of hair back up behind her ear, a closed parasol tucked against her chest…

[=]

 _Amber, her familiar green cape trailing behind her, stopped and turned to look back at him, concern on her face._  
 _"Chief?" she called, "Everything alright?"_  
 _Further ahead, the others came to a halt, all turning to cast at least half an eye back towards their de facto leader: he'd schooled them all well on maintaining awareness of their surroundings, especially in the building fog._

 _He tried to ignore the prickle on the back of his neck as he stood, ankle-deep in mud and ice-cold water, as the moor… quieted, around them. The few branches that poked through the mist looked like the clawing hands of ghosts. The familiar sounds of bird calls and the chittering of bugs faded away…  
_  
 _No…more like died, all of a sudden._

 _"No…" he said, his voice loud enough that only the others would hear. Slowly reaching behind him, he gently closed his fingers around the stock of the Skirmisher Rifle, feeling the warm hum of the Dust Power Cell resonating through the Valewood stock. His left arm tingled, still healing from the torture it had received the year before._

 _Slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible, he stepped forwards, sliding the long, antiquated shape of the weapon-so refined, so elegant, not like the base functionality of modern energy rifles- from the sling on his back. Flicking his wrists, his coat shifted into its familiar camouflage color, causing him to almost vanish against the background._

 _"Lawton…" he said as he stepped past his companions, "You'd better let me take point for a while…"_

 _"You feel it too?" his friend asked in an equally low voice, not taking his dark purple eyes off the surrounding woods._

 _He stopped beside the LCFR leader, his thumb caressing the las-lock of his rifle. A quick glance down showed that it was loaded with an ice crystal._

 _"Yeah." He muttered, raising the weapon as he stared down the iron sights._

 _Robin hefted her missile launcher as she scanned the area, peering through the thickening fog.  
_  
 _Cydney, taking a moment to wipe the condensation from her glasses, let a hand drift towards her dust pouch, as she kept the other on her bow.  
_  
 _Frederich and Dietrich both held their rifles at the ready, eyes darting around to spot any potential targets.  
_  
 _Ebony carefully unsheathed her swords, priming the in-built shotguns with a flick of her thumb.  
_  
 _Lawton charged his flamethrower, the brief whine suddenly echoing like a thunderclap in the ears of the eight students.  
_  
 _Amber unlocked her staff, the Dust crystals at each end glowing as the rod extended to its full length.  
_  
 _He smiled to himself for a moment: the eight of them were more than ready for the challenges ahead. After everything they'd been through together, he had nothing but the utmost faith in them._

 _All the same…_

 _"Something's definitely not right here…" He said slowly._

 _Then the machine gun opened up._

"Sir?"

[=]

Pyrrhos jerked awake, ripped from the cold, distant memories by a sudden intrusion of a voice, and stiffened as he felt a hand on his left shoulder.

The flight attendant yelped in surprise as, with a lightning-fast movement, his right hand suddenly snapped up to close around her wrist, his grip like a vice around her arm and his eyes flashing as his head snapped around to regard the young woman. For a single, fleeting moment, the young attendant thought he was going to kill her out of sheer reflex.

"What? What is it, what?" Pyrrhos muttered sleepily as he tried to blink the cobwebs out of his mind. The young woman whose hand he now clutched seemed to regain some control of herself, and stared at him with terrified eyes.

"S-Sir, we will be landing shortly at the Atlas terminal…ah...m-may I have my hand back, sir?" she tittered as she fidgeted in his grip.

Pyrrhos looked down at the woman's hand, which was starting to turn white in his grip. His surroundings came crashing back to him: he sat in a private compartment of a first-class airliner, en route to Atlas. His backside was nestled in a soft, comfortable seat, and the remains of a posh meal sat on his tray table before him. Around, he heard the muted drone of the aircraft's engines despite the sound-dampening materials that lined the fuselage. He could also pick up snippets of conversation from other passengers: the snobbish tones of the elite grated against his ears.

He must have fallen asleep…careless of him.

"Sorry" he said as he released her hand, which she pulled back like it had been burnt as she continued staring at him, "You surprised me."  
"M-My apologies, sir…" the young woman stammered, before she turned and almost fled up the aisle of the airliner, her heels clicking through the thin carpet on the floor.  
Pyrrhos didn't watch her go. He had too much else to be concerned with.

Reaching over to his other side, he made sure the sealed container he had brought with him was where he had left it: disguised as a regular briefcase, the hermetically sealed armored box was bulletproof, gas-proof, Dust-proof and able to be submerged up to a mile underwater.  
Not the most efficient means of transporting what was inside….but it served.

As he went over his mental checklist about his mission, he thought back to the past few days since he had left the Requiem main base, leaving Qray in command until he returned. They'd had several more rows about his timing, especially considering the operation that was coming up, and she'd still been shooting him a dirty look as he'd departed.  
Ah well. She'd earned that right.

What followed had seemed like a blur: from a quick trip on one of Requiem's Bullheads to an outpost where he'd caught a train into a port city, he'd changed out of his grungy Requiem "uniform" and into the fine clothes of the cut he wore now, stylishly tying his hair back (he'd learned the value of keeping up with modern styles) and applying a liberal coating of cover up to hide the lines about his eyes.  
When he'd emerged from the bathroom stall where he'd been changing, he hadn't recognized himself for a moment as he'd caught a glimpse in the mirror. He almost looked…normal.

From there, a short ferry ride to an Atlas-built Airport, safely isolated on an island away from the "scum" of the port and any wayward Grimm, had ended with him boarding the Airliner a few hours ago.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he looked down to make sure the gloves he wore, new and polished, were still in place: the chalk-white color of his left hand would be a dead giveaway to those forces that still searched for him. He'd seen one of the wanted posters with his crudely-drawn face that Atlas had distributed: while they could never get his features right, the arm was a dead giveaway.

Of course, he was going straight into the proverbial lions' den, so what did that say about his grasp of the odds against him?

He felt rather than saw the lights of the Aerodrome coming up from below as the Airliner came in for landing: Airliners, with powerful turbine engines, were much faster than the run-of-the-mill airships that served as most transport, and could generally outrun any Grimm that menaced them. Generally.

The interior of the craft was decked out like a five-star hotel, with plush seats and artistically-crafted compartments, decorated with sculptures and fine paintings. Some of the larger compartments even sported beds, and the most modern entertainment systems were equipped. A fashionable restaurant/café filled the nose of the craft, and uniformed stewardesses, some of them Faunus, tended to the needs of the passengers.

None of which mattered to Pyrrhos, as he braced for the impact of the craft's wheels hitting the ground: he'd been aboard one of these long ago that wasn't so much landings as, well, crashing, and the memories of the experience still left him tense.

 _And yet,_ he thought to himself, bemused, as the craft taxied towards the terminal, _you still fell asleep…_

[=]

As he exited the aircraft, carrying only the briefcase, he caught a glimpse of the young flight attendant as she was standing in the crew section, apparently being comforted by some of her fellows as she leaned, trembling, against one of the food preparation counters. She held the hand she'd used to shake him awake close to her chest like it was injured, and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

Pyrrhos didn't give the incident another thought. A few years ago, he might have felt morose for what he'd done, possibly arranged for the girl to have a "bonus" on her next paycheck.

No longer.

Striding out of the terminal, briefcase clutched in his left hand, his shoulders back, head held high but not to the point of arrogance, he looked exactly the way he wanted to look: like he belonged.  
After all, only the rich and elite traveled by airliner: most people had to make do with stop-start airship travel or even more common, ocean transport. He didn't spare a glance at the finery of the other passengers: their petty lives were not his concern.  
No indeed, even if a word on the lips of many of the passengers, nobles, upper-crust businessman and military types, most certainly was.

"-Schnee should send in some of his own security to guard the Dust shipments, you can't rely on those Vale police to catch one petty crook, never mind a terrorist army!" a woman in an Atlas officer's uniform remarked to a nodding man in an equally splendid uniform, a young woman in the garb of Atlas Academy trailing silently behind them, hands clasped before her as they walked with the assembled passengers down the wide avenue, decked out more like a ritzy upper-class hotel than an airport.

"-Simply dreadful!" a rich heiress said shrilly to her escort, a young man with the air of a Vacuean noble, as the assemblage strode past a series of food and drink stands, "I do hope General Ironwood can do something about those White Fang monsters: Schnee Dust stocks are plummeting, father is simply furious!"

Pyrrhos paused by a small penny-candy stand, where rows of bins full of the shining confections were manned by a matronly old woman who was, at that moment, serving a gleeful little girl watched over by a mustachioed man who was speaking to a younger gentleman.  
"-I was just speaking to Eisen about it at the board meeting the other day!" the older man said to his companion as the child thanked the saleswoman after she handed her the bag, "He seemed distracted, I dare say: his youngest has returned from her semester studies at Beacon-wasted effort on her part, I dare say-and he was fuming about her behavior while she was away."

"Wasn't she caught in the attack on Vale?" his companion asked, as, after the old man placed a few Lien on the stand, the three stepped away, allowing Pyrrhos to step up to the old woman, "She had some part in trying to prevent it, I read."  
"I recall reading she was dueling with those White Fang scum on the very train they used to attack the city." The first replied, as Pyrrhos pointed to one of the bins, the woman nodding as she reached down to pick up a small white bag and began scooping the selected treats into it.

"Well" the mustached man said as they continued on down the passageway, the girl munching happily on her treats as she was herded along, "At least that Torchwick fellow is safely in General Ironwood's custody."  
"Agreed!" his companion remarked, as Pyrrhos paid for his small bag and turned to carry on behind them "There was some News coverage of it, most thrilling!"  
"Though of course nothing of that sort would happen in Atlas." The mustached man said firmly "I was just speaking to my cousin about Vale's defenses the other day…"

The conversation faded from Pyrrhos' ears as he paused beside a small circle of chairs in the waiting area near the dock, popping one of the candies into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. One of the chairs was occupied, the seated figure's face hidden behind a newspaper as Pyrrhos lowered himself into the chair to its right.  
A dismissive huff was heard as the two businessmen's words hung in the air for a moment.

"You can't believe a word they say on the news, can you?" a casual, slightly smug voice came from behind the Newspaper. On the front page, under the headline of "TORCHWICK ARRESTED" a photo of the gangster being led away by Atlas troopers reinforced the two businessmen's words: the news, old in Vale, was still front-page material in Atlas, with the slow movement of information.  
"My uncle always said..." Pyrrhos replied with a shrug as he folded the small candy bag closed and slid it into his coat pocket, "Believe half of what you see and none of what you hear."  
The huff came again.  
"Wise words"  
Pyrrhos angled his head to regard the seated figure.  
"I hope you're not too inconvenienced by these arrangements?" he said with a cocked eyebrow.

"Hardly" the voice came back, a smug chuckle to its tone as the newspaper folded down, revealing the sly grin to match, the cigar dangling from the lips twitching as the grin grew into a proper smile.

"To be honest…" said Roman Torchwick, his hair dyed black, false mustache applied and contacts changing his eye color, as he folded the paper over and placed it on the side table between them, the headline in the clear for all to see.  
"…I'm feeling surprisingly…free."

[=]

(dun dun DUNNNNN!

I apologize for the length of time between updates: life's kicking me in the patoot and is kind of killing my motivation. But I've got a few more chapters lined up before we get back to Pyrrha and Crew…and we're going to see some familiar faces next chapter.)


	14. Chapter 13: of Schnees and Sourpusses

_Schnee estate, Atlas._

The vast estate of the Schnee family, encompassing acre upon acre of carefully-tended land, loomed like a judgmental overlord above the militantly-plain buildings of Atlas city proper. As was befitting, considering it was the home of a man who effectively ruled Atlas economically.

Schnee Dust, founded by Nicholas Schnee and passed to his son-in-law Eisen Schnee, was one of Remnant's primary dust suppliers, the company owning vast quarries where the material, the source of Remnant's defense, power and indeed life itself, was furrowed out of the ground. Schnee workers and machines mined the dust, Schnee shapers cut the Dust, Schnee businessmen sold the Dust, and Schnee scientists studied the Dust.  
All this on top of the other industries Schnee owned: technologies, shipping, railroads, transport, manufacturing and providing maintenance of the CCTS had all firmly integrated Schnee Dust into the public eye…and lined Schnee's pockets with gold.

The Corporation was almost a nation unto itself: Eisen Schnee was effectively autonomous from Atlas' government (indeed, some could say THEY served HIM) and he was able to conduct business with the other kingdoms more or less independent of Atlesian taxes and tariffs. Cornering the monopoly on Dust mining and sales, running all competition in Atlas out of business, having their name stamped on virtually all dust-based machinery…it was all part of doing business.

And Business was booming.

Of course, like all independent entities of such power, Schnee had enemies, chief among them the White Fang.  
The patriarch of the Schnee family had lost count of how many death threats, both idle and fully intentional, he had received since he was a child. He'd long forgotten the sheer number of relatives and SD board members who had been brutally killed for simply being associated with him or his company. It had taken a great deal of effort, but closing his heart to these things, pressing on in the face of the darkness, had allowed him the nerve to do what he had to do, to preserve his company and protect his family.

And the vast Estate showed his penchant for security quite well.

The first thing one would encounter would be, of course, the 10-meter high wall around the base of the hill that the estate sat on, constantly patrolled by security guards, Knight-200's and automated turrets. Several of the Paladin mecha-suits Schnee's scientists had developed waited in security checkpoints, ready to deploy to any emergency zones.  
A trio of fighter-gunships, Atlas military standard, were hangered around the grounds, with one in the air at all times, scanning the property for intruders that may somehow make it past the first line of security.

A forest of Fir trees surrounded the base of the hill upon which the house stood, at this moment green and vibrant with summer growth: come the winter, with fresh snowfall, and people would say they almost looked like predatory spikes, warning interlopers to stay away.

Higher up the hill, past vast flower gardens and artful pathways for teas and parties, stood the vast, almost fortress-like home of the Schnee family. The whitewashed walls with protruding spikes, windows with more in common to arrow slits, and the crenellated upper balconies would put one in mind of an extension of the old castle ruins at the peak of the hill. The main doors, large enough for one of Atlas' Paladins to fit through without hunching, indeed came from the crumbling ruins that stood like a scornful grandfather at the very peak of the mount. This connection with the legacy of the Schnee family only served to drive home the impression of strength.

All of it was designed to ward away the unwelcome, and project Schnee's power to any onlookers. On the whole…

"Quite a display." Torchwick quipped from the passenger seat of the rental car he was sharing with Pyrrhos, a long black sedan, six-wheel drive, that winded its way over the hairpin turns and wind-swept road that led to the isolated estate. Around the base of the hill everything within three miles had been stripped down to the grass: yet more security, there was nowhere to hide. Torchwick puffed contentedly on a cigar, the smoke drifting out the open window. The lights of Atlas itself lit up the horizon like polar auroras.

"You should see it from the inside." Pyrrhos replied, a slight touch of whimsy in his voice as a smile ticked at the edges of his lips. He could remember the time he'd spent within those walls, before and after his…rebirth.

Of course, his association with the man beside him had begun long before that. Along with…certain others associated with the Schnee family…

[=]

The long, grand Piano was, like everything else in the Schnee home, an expertly crafted art piece, as much decoration as functional instrument. The polished black surface gleamed in the overhead lights as beautiful music emanated from within.  
A set of thin, delicate fingers danced over the gleaming white keys, the player's eyes closed, the notes of the music and the location of the keys instinctual.

Weiss Schnee needed no music sheet, felt no hesitation or nervousness as her hands danced over the keys, playing out the final verse of the song, one of many she'd memorized. Years of practice had honed her skills to an art, much like everything she did. Nothing less was expected from her.

"Beautiful, milady, simply beautiful." Her maid said as she and the other servants that tended to the heiress to Schnee Dust politely clapped.

Weiss stood and stepped away from the piano, her long, gossamer-thin robe trailing behind her: with the voluminous sleeves and long train, the robe had more in common with a gown than anything one was supposed to relax in. Underneath, she wore her favorite sky blue nightie, the silken material shining in the lamplight. Periwinkle stockings sheathed her legs: the last element of an ensemble she'd worn to a party earlier in the day, now warding off an unseasonable chill in the air.  
Her long hair was down, trailing across her back as she prepared for bed. No point staying up later, there was nothing to do.

Weiss said nothing in response to her servants-agents of her father, all of them-and strode silently over to the windows at the far end of the room: the thin glass panes always put her in mind of cathedral windows, tight, confining, and never-ever-let in enough light.

Nothing in her home ever seemed to let in enough light…

She loosely crossed her arms, squeezing her legs together as she felt another draft caress her with frozen fingers. What she wouldn't give for a mug of Blake's hot tea right then…

What she wouldn't give for BLAKE, right then…or Yang, so fiery and warm, or…or Ruby.

She hugged herself tighter as she thought back, fighting off the crushing loneliness that wormed its way up out of her heart, as it had done so several times in the past weeks. Images filled her mind's eye, of her team, her companions…Neptune…

Her eyes pinched closed for a moment as she thought of the blue-haired teen, the hurt in his expression as she'd stormed away. The unwelcome feeling of guilt clawed at her heart as she thought of the charming Mistralian, how he'd come trotting up to her with his offer…

He'd picked a bad time to ask her, in all honesty: between her father's veiled threat to cut her off if she didn't come home and the promise of seeing Winter while she was on leave, she'd been torn to the point of being distraught at the decision to stay or go.

Of course, Neptune's own hurt had been pale in comparison to Ruby's disappointment…  
Weiss clutched tighter at her arms as she recalled Ruby's expression collapsing like a house of cards…and her goodbye to Zwei, his big puppy-dog eyes almost making her throw caution to the wind and depart with her team.

Almost.

Even more disappointing, however, was the discovery upon returning home that Winter was still on deployment, and would likely be such until after Weiss had returned to Beacon. So not only had she left her team…her friends, behind, but her reason for coming home had proven to be absent as well.

So…all that, all that heartache, for nothing. With the CCTS down, she had no way of even sending them a message.

She idly pondered just what her teammates were doing at that moment, as she redirected her focus to her reflection in the window. The ice-blue of her eyes seemed to merge with the reflection of the moon on the clouds, as distant ice caps glistened like tears on her reflection's cheeks.  
Well, better that her shadow cry than she be seen doing it.

"Mirror…tell me something…." She murmured to herself as she studied her own eyes reflected in the glass. Staring between the tight frames of each pane… it like looking through the bars of a jail cell.  
"Tell me why I can't walk away…"  
She gently shook her head as she closed her eyes…she dare not even dwell on those thoughts.

To flee…something she dared not dream of. She expected her father's men would hunt her down before she even made it to the city. To say nothing of his wrath….

No indeed…though once upon a time….the question had come up. Only once, almost off-handedly. But for some reason, it stuck in Weiss' mind like it was glued.

She still recalled the day, almost eight years ago…

[=]  
 _  
The younger of the two Schnee Sisters looked up from her books at where Winter was laying on one of the vast window couches, her long legs extending the length of the cushioned seat as she stared out at a late spring snow drifting down outside._

 _Unlike her usual fastidiousness and conservative decorum, Winter seemed…unkempt, to say nothing of emotional. She'd come home from the academy earlier that morning, her eyes uncharacteristically red and puffy. Even MORE uncommonly, she'd brushed right past her father and scooped Weiss into her arms as the young girl had come bounding down the stairs, a single hiccupping sob escaping her throat._

 _Eisen had tried to reassert himself, but a single, piercing glare from the elder Heiress had silenced him…Weiss had heard him mumbling something about "Too much like her mother" as he'd stormed back to his office. There wasn't an ounce of warmth in the man, no concern for his daughter's obvious distress. Or…was that fear, in his voice?_

 _Winter's behavior had continued to be uncharacteristic: For several hours now, she'd been lying on the couch, staring at the city below as the snowflakes drifted down on the fir trees that surrounded the base of the hill. She was still in her uniform, though by no means in a presentable state: her boots were casually dropped on the floor by her feet, and her tie hung from the back of a nearby chair where she'd tossed it as she'd all but torn it from her collar, her vest lying on the cushion below it. Her blouse hung open about her swanlike neck, and, to Weiss' shock, she'd let her hair out of her usual strict bun, the platinum locks spread out around her head on the pillow._

 _Weiss, unsure of what to do, had simply sat nearby, reading one of her study manuals. Or, at least, it looked that way, as she browsed a book of fairy tales Winter had secretly given her for her birthday, the small book cleverly hidden inside the hollowed-out larger one._  
 _She didn't know what was causing her sister's distress, but she'd be sure to be there if-_

 _"Weiss?"_

 _The young girl almost shrieked as Winter's voice cut into the silence like a thunderclap. Managing not to drop her book (which no doubt would have brought servants running in) she turned to her sister._  
 _Winter's head remained turned away, her eyes still gazing out the window at the falling snow. A few flakes stuck to the window, and her fingers came up as though to caress them before they melted away, running down the glass like trailing tears._

 _"Weiss…have you ever thought about just…running away?"_

Running away?! _The little girl wondered, her eyes widening at the uncharacteristic question,_ Father would never allow such a thing! What could she be-  
 _  
Weiss' thoughts broke off as a near-silent sound drifted across the room from Winter's perch. To the ears of the little girl it sounded like…._

 _…a sob…_

 _Standing and smoothing the wrinkles from her dress, Weiss walked carefully across the room to her sister, fidgeting with her fingers as she looked up at the apparent stranger in Winter's body. Coming home from school early….being so kind and friendly towards servants and Weiss herself…crying?_

 _"Winter?" Weiss asked, her small voice hesitant._

 _Her older sister's eyes-red, from tears, but still harboring warmth-turned to regard Weiss, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips._

 _"Are you…alright?"_

 _Winter reached down and, to Weiss' surprise, lifted her younger sister up into her lap as she sat up straighter. The strange affection Winter was showing was so unlike her Weiss briefly fought down the urge to cry out in terror._  
 _Winter gently stroked Weiss' hair, her arms loosely hugging her close, as though she were a source of security._

 _"I've just….lost someone very dear to me, today."_

 _Now, Weiss was no stranger to death, and she knew full well that Winter was well-exposed to it at this point: both of them had seen such horrors, given the position their father was in._

 _but Weiss was quite perplexed: she'd never seen her sister react to a death in this way. Even their mother's…._

 _"Who were they…if you don't mind my asking?"_

 _Winter turned her reddened eyes to her little sister, a smile, full of genuine warmth, one usually reserved for occasions when father was away, crossing her lips as she gently ruffled Weiss' hair._

 _"A dear friend…."_

 _She leaned back on the pillows as Weiss repositioned herself on her sister's lap, waiting patiently for Winter to continue. The elder Schnee Heiress paused for a long moment as she turned her gaze back to the falling flakes outside, her expression almost wistful._

" _Do you remember that team from Beacon-"_

"Milady?"

[=]

Weiss snapped abruptly out of her thoughts, whirling to see one of her many butlers standing beside her. Her usual Butler, Klein, was down with a cold, and Weiss regarded his replacement with barely-contained derision. The young man seemed to wilt under her gaze.  
"Milady, your Father wishes to speak with you."

Weiss huffed in frustration, rolling her eyes. Leave it to her father to want a meeting so late at night just as she was getting ready for bed. She glanced down at her nightclothes as she replied, her voice full of forced politeness.  
"I hope he will allow me to dress properly before I-"

"Actually…" the butler said with a clearing of his throat, "HE has come to see YOU, madam."

Weiss froze, perplexity crossing her face, before turning as the door to her bedroom opened. The assembled maids and butlers bowed respectfully as Eisen Schnee, his usual suit coat replaced with a deep blue smoking jacket, stepped through.  
"Leave us." He commanded with his usual sharp tone, dismissing the assembled staff with a gesture without so much as looking at them. Without raising their heads, the maids and butlers filed out of the room, the door closing behind them. Without the assembly of staff, the room was that much emptier…and that much more like a prison.

"Can I help you, Father?" Weiss said, forced politeness hiding her returning disdain.  
Eisen remained where he stood in the doorway, not approaching her. Not that he would: the last time Weiss could recall her father showing open affection was…goodness, she COULDN'T recall.  
The Master of Schnee dust huffed, fluffing his ridiculous moustache away from his lips, which only served to make him look like an underfed walrus to his daughter. And yet he still held such power over her….  
"Can't a father say goodnight to his daughter?" Schnee asked, his voice full of a cordiality Weiss knew was entirely fabricated.  
Weiss' only reply was to raise an eyebrow at her father, which gave all the response the question merited.

The smile vanished from her father's face, though the artificial warmth remained in his eyes. He'd been playing this game ever since she'd returned home, acting uncharacteristically welcoming, which had only prompted Weiss to test the suddenly enlarged boundaries she found herself facing. She knew she would never have been so terse before she'd left for Beacon, nor would her father have let her get away with it.

The question was: Why?

"Weiss, I know things are…difficult." He said, still not approaching her.  
"What I do, I only do for the sake of maintaining the prosperity of our family!"  
 _At the cost OF your family!_ Weiss mentally screamed. _If Winter were here, she'd say the same thing, to say nothing of Mother, even before she left-!_

"I don't see how not allowing me to remain with my team would do anything to harm the company's prosperity."Weiss replied, a-slight- edge coming to her voice. _  
_Eisen's eyes sharpened, the false cordiality falling away as his true face was revealed. His fists tightened in his pockets, and Weiss briefly wondered if she'd finally crossed the line.  
"You must understand, Weiss, things are difficult for me as well! I'm trying to-"

"Sir?"  
The Master of Schnee dust whirled, anger crossing his features as he met the eyes of one of the house staff.  
"WHAT…" he growled "…Is it?"  
The servant cowered, and hoped he didn't.

"T-There are two gentlemen at the front gate who say they have a meeting with you."  
"Don't be absurd!" Schnee growled, his eyes flashing, "I don't schedule meetings-"  
"S-Something to do with a "chrome" delivery?" the servant stammered nervously.

Weiss couldn't miss the rare sight of Eisen Schnee's eyes widening in a mix of comprehension and shock as he was stunned into silence: it was such an uncommon sight that for a moment Weiss was actually afraid he'd suddenly had a stroke.

"Admit them at once!" Schnee suddenly shouted, turning and marching from his youngest daughter's bedroom.

"Weiss, remain here!" he shouted over his shoulder as he shrugged off his housecoat and tossed it to one of the servants, "And someone fetch me a clean suit coat!"

He carried on down the stairs, barking orders and sending his servants scurrying about the vast atrium of the mansion. His younger daughter, obedient, remained in her room, but couldn't help cocking an eyebrow as she walked across and closed the door.

 _Now just who are THESE two?_ Weiss wondered to herself, hearing Eisen's voice echoing up the stairs as he ordered his servants to their quarters, Father _usually doesn't get so excited…_

Crossing back to the window, she stared out into the gloom, letting her thoughts drift back to her friends, so far away….though she briefly pondered the sedan that now sat at the entrance to the estate…

[=]  
(AN: Again, I gotta apologize. Life's not giving me much time for writing or motivation to write when I have the time. Thank you everyone who's kept reading! I'll be trying to get back into the swing.

With V4 being what it is, I've decided that this story is going to depart from the canon in more ways than one. So stay tuned!

Also, I will be keeping my name for Papa Schnee, despite the canon. And don't expect Whitley to show up.)


	15. Chapter 14: In the Hall of the Ice King

_A familiar ceiling….a familiar, comforting softness enveloping her….familiar scents filling her nose, her senses…_

 _None of it mattered now._

 _Her bloodshot amber eyes, puffy and red, tears run dry, stared helplessly at nothing, long since having given up hope._  
 _Everyone….everyone she'd spent the last 4 years growing with, learning with….loving….._

 _How? How could this have happened?_

 _All she recalled was waking up in the hospital, her head pounding, her body feeling like someone had used it for a punching bag…days and nights coming in brief spurts of consciousness…and constantly asking every nurse who came in where her friends were…where_

 _HE was…._

 _Only when General Blutarch Schnee, Headmaster of Atlas, had come on behalf of Ozpin had she remembered everything…. about their mission to the north, the mysterious woman they'd been asked to locate…The sudden ambush by seemingly hundreds of Grimm….horrible, glowing yellow eyes lighting up the Moor, cutting down her teammates….the woman appearing out of the mist, blood pouring down her face, manic and relentless…._

 _…the woman's gaze, balefully meeting her eyes….their color matching her own irises…mouthing a silent apology…._

 _And then….nothing. Just an impossible light…._

 _Schnee's pity had radiated off of him, and made his presence almost as excruciating as the pain she still dealt with. He'd almost seemed….guilty._

 _He'd informed her that, for reasons surrounding the mysterious woman's identity, her survival had to be kept secret for the moment. As a result, she'd been unable to reach out to her friends….no messages to Qray, or Torch, or anyone….just to let her know she was alright…._

 _Just herself….left to slowly sink into a deeper and deeper morass of grief as weeks turned to months summer passed without notice, and fall was well on its way to changing over to winter…._

 _"Sweetie?"_

 _A familiar touch…a familiar hand caressing her chocolate colored hair, matted and unkempt, her mocha skin pale and sickly, her decorum long since forgotten…after all, what did it matter anymore?_  
 _Without him, what did anything matter anymore?_

 _Her head seemed to turn without conscious thought, as the worry-wracked face of her mother filled her vision, her compassionate eyes filled with pity…._

 _"Dear…Professor Ozpin is here, he says he needs to speak to you…."  
_ {=}

In the impenetrable darkness in the vault under Beacon Tower, in a sarcophagus-like pod attached to machinery whose purpose one could only guess at, the scarred face of a young woman, comatose, seemingly frozen in time, was marred for a single moment as a tear worked its way out of her eye and trailed, silent and sorrowful, down her ravaged face, to patter mutely against her shoulder.

The Machinery hummed on, preserving what little life remained in Amber Valewood, the Fall Maiden.

[=]

Eisen Schnee stormed across the vast atrium of the Schnee Mansion as he smoothed the creases in the suit coat hastily acquired from his closet. He's dismissed the butler with a curt nod, and waited until the servant had all but fled the chamber before turning to open the door. He would not trust even the doorman to answer this call.  
With the press of a button disguised as a piece of decorative molding, the large, gate-like doors swung open, gears grinding like the portcullis of a castle gate, the noise echoing through the empty corridors. A rush of cold air blew through the opening, rustling Schnee's moustache and coat.

He could not hide an expression of anger as he met the gaze of the two figures that stood in the threshold.

"About time! We were starting to think you weren't home!" Torchwick quipped, his smug smirk never wavering on his lips. His cigar twitched as he spoke, giving him an almost jovial air.

Schnee didn't even give the criminal the benefit of a reply as he spoke, addressing the taller figure standing between him and Torchwick, a black briefcase clutched tightly in his left hand.

"What is HE doing here?" Schnee growled at Pyrrhos as his hate-filled glare fixed on the criminal, "This was simply meant to be a delivery, you've no-"  
"There has been a…change of plans." Pyrrhos replied, his voice cool and unimpressed at Schnee's anger. Torchwick's smirk grew wider behind him.

Schnee managed to suppress an outrage-filled snarl at the two gentlemen. He was not used to being on the receiving end of obvious contempt, never mind finding someone not cowed by his presence.  
"Well, you'd best come in, then" he managed, forcing something resembling cordiality into his voice as he stepped back to allow the two to cross the threshold into the house.

[=]

Pyrrhos gazed up at the tapestries and chandeliers that hung overhead, the sweeping staircase flanked by towering suits of armor, the polished banisters and flooring. And all of it shades of white or blue.  
It hadn't changed, not in the least, since he'd last been in this place… this house of ice…

Torchwick whistled as he gazed around.  
"Very nice, VERY nice." He mused, appraising the décor as he let his eyes wander. Pyrrhos could almost see price tags appearing on each item the criminal set his brilliant green gaze upon.

Schnee's scowl grew deeper, and he whirled on the criminal, a finger in his face.  
"Don't…touch…anything." He snarled, his finger almost trembling, "I've half a mind to send you down to the guard station, and don't you even THINK-!"  
He fell silent abruptly as an ice-cold hand fell upon his shoulder. Chills coursed down his spine, and he felt his rage slide away to be replaced by a sudden fear. The death-like touch sent memories of narrow escapes, brushes with death, and near-misses with assassins tearing through his mind….it was the same sensation he felt when death seemed imminent…

"Mister Schnee….." Pyrrhos spoke, a voice full of menace as he squeezed the older man's shoulder, just short of inflicting pain.  
"Perhaps, if nothing else than to speed this meeting along and get us out of your hair, we had best proceed to your office?"

Schnee, summoning every scrap of reserve he possessed, suppressed a shudder at the man's necrotic touch, inhumanly cold even through his leather glove. Ever since their first meeting years ago, he'd always felt something…. _diseased_ , about the man.  
"Of…Of course." He replied, his anger at Torchwick forgotten as he stepped out of Pyrrhos' grasp.  
"Right this way."

As he turned, however, he paused, before looking over his shoulder at Torchwick, fixing him with a razor-sharp glare.  
"Just the same, I'd advise you to remain silent: my daughter is in residence, and I'm sure she would recognize your voice. She IS one of the Students who saw you arrested, after all."  
He measured Torchwick's response, and his scowl returned as the Criminal gave no more than a shrug of indifference, sending another smoke ring towards the ceiling. If anything, Torchwick seemed…bemused.  
"Wouldn't want any embarrassing revelations, would we?"Schnee concluded, as much to avoid an awkward pause as anything else. The silent gazes of his two guests did nothing to ease his tension.

As the master of Schnee Dust led the two men up the stairs, the scents of Torchwick's cigar clinging to the old man's nose without relent. With a hidden scowl, he recognized the blend, and had to fight the urge to confront the criminal once more. How this scum had come into possession of the same custom-rolled stogies Nicholas Schnee himself had once smoked-!

The three continued down the long, imposing corridors, Torchwick's murmured sounds of approval gouging into Schnee's ears as they passed priceless artifacts and trinkets. The old man, maintaining a veneer of indifference, was roiling on the inside. Why? Why tonight, of all nights?  
He'd managed to deflect questions about where he'd sourced the material he'd already tested, stating it was a chance discovery by one of his survey teams, and he'd already had to…deal with, a major technician who had become too curious. He knew Reed and Ironwood were both watching him closely: Reed was starting to bristle under constant delays to the project, while Ironwood, ever distrustful of Schnee, was almost gleeful that the old man's star was falling in the eyes of the high command.  
Of course, Schnee had distrusted Ironwood even before the "Tin Soldier" stole his daughter from him….

As he lead the two down the corridor, engrossed in his thoughts, Schnee didn't notice the door to Weiss' bedroom, the ice-blue eye –just-peering out from a door that wasn't –quite-closed. Nor did he see that eye widen as though in recognition, or hear the muted gasp from within.

[=]

Pyrrhos, for his part, remained silent, and kept his eyes locked straight ahead...save for when the trio passed a large portrait of the Schnee family just outside Eisen's office.  
There, his eyes lingered for a moment on the youthful face of Schnee's eldest daughter, who gazed out of the painting with an expression of despair….

His hand closed around the bag of sweets, firmly placed in his pocket, and pondered idly if he'd gotten the schedule correct… and if the note on the paper bag, hastily scribbled as Torchwick charmed the attendant at the rental car kiosk would get everything across.

He'd always maintained a healthy distrust of the absurdly wealthy, or those in high positions of power…they were always looking out for their own interests, never giving a care for those who could not immediately benefit them. And it wasn't just the ultra-rich who fell into that category…oh no….he'd learned that the hard way.

This was one of those rare occasions, however where that mindset worked in his favor: Schnee's first loyalty was, and always would be, to Schnee himself above all others. He'd discovered that long before, in their first meeting. Old Nicholas, such a grand old man, had been forced to learn the hard way…and, Pyrrhos suspected, that lesson had been what put him in an early Grave.  
"Patriotism" only existed in Eisen's lexicon where it served his ends. His loyalty to Atlas extended only as far as they allowed him to carry on his business practices. If some cause helped him to get ahead, to win some challenge or contest that existed in the stock market or only in his mind; he would embrace the risks, concentrating only on the perceived reward.

Hence, his willingness to work with Pyrrhos, who was by no means a friend of Atlas….

[=]

"Here we are." Schnee announced at last, as the three stopped before an otherwise unimportant looking door. Producing a large brass skeleton key, he slipped it into the lock, twisting it and, when the lock clicked into place, pushing the door open.

Leading the two men into his office, he closed and locked the door behind them, making double-sure that it was secured. The last thing THIS meeting needed was any interruptions.  
Silently sucking in a deep breath, Schnee slipped the key back into his pocket and turned to his two guests.

Torchwick had already settled himself onto one of the couches in the center of the room, jauntily puffing smoke rings into the air as he crossed his legs, while Pyrrhos, perhaps showing some decorum, remained standing, gazing at the finery, the rows of books, shining chandelier, and hand-carved Chess Set that sat on the coffee table.

 _'Likely doesn't experience culture like this out in the Badlands of Vale'_ Schnee thought to himself, as he strode past the two men to seat himself opposite them. Only when he had sat did Pyrrhos take his seat beside Torchwick. He set the black case beside the couch on the floor.

"Alright." Schnee said declaratively " I presume you both didn't come all this way just to hand over my delivery."  
Torchwick scoffed.  
"And deny ourselves your hospitality?" he said with a smirk "Perish the thought, Eisy, perish the thought! I've heard you keep excellent vintages in your wine cellar, have the help send up some cheese, we'll have ourselves a ball!"  
Schnee glared at the criminal, who chuckled in response, as Pyrrhos spoke.  
"You presume correctly."

Schnee's attention turned back to Pyrrhos, who had picked up the Black Chess King from its place on the board, and was rolling it back and forth in his left hand. Sensing, perhaps, that he was being called upon to speak, Schnee cleared his throat before he continued.

"As I understand, The Plan was that your forces would stage an "incident" at one of my Vale facilities, which would draw off the Atlas fleet currently over Beacon Academy. With the available forces reduced, you and your elite would, using the distraction of the Vytal Festival, infiltrate Beacon to ascertain the location of this "maiden" you referenced, Broadcast a message denouncing Atlas to the world, and then withdraw, hopefully without incident."

Pyrrhos caught the Chess King between two fingers, staring through the gap at the peak of the crown, which was modeled after Beacon Tower.

"That WAS the plan."

Pyrrhos never took his eyes off the King as he held the base of it between two fingers, rotating it back and forth between the digits. Schnee, for his part, felt like he was almost an afterthought, and it made him bristle as Pyrrhos continued speaking.

"We no longer need to ascertain where the Maiden is." he continued "As we already know: she is AT Beacon, sequestered in a sealed facility under Beacon tower."

"It's amazing what Atlas techs leave out in the open for ANYONE with the right skills to find, isn't it?" Torchwick quipped.

"The result of your ill-gotten gains in Vacuo, I presume." Schnee said, before his brow furrowed, as though he was deep in thought. With an 'ah" of revelation, he snapped his fingers.  
"That would explain the equipment deliveries. Ironwood had me ship them to Vale, whereupon they seemed to…vanish."  
Pyrrhos seemed to freeze, for a moment, before he sat up, closing his hand around the Chess King as he turned his full attention to Schnee.  
"Equipment deliveries?"

Schnee looked at Pyrrhos, almost flinching at the intensity of his expression.

"Ah, yes" he replied, straightening his tie to give him a momentary pause to compose himself.  
"Advanced life support systems, power generators, and a highly experimental device whose true purpose even I am not privy to. It has something to do with Aura-"

Torchwick's grin vanished, a look of disgust taking its place. He gnashed down hard on the cigar….but that was nothing compared to Pyrrhos' reaction.

Schnee broke off with a gulp of alarm as Pyrrhos' closed fist tightened like a vice clamp, crushing the Chess king in his grip. Splinters and shards of wood, smoldering as though exposed to a flame, fell from his fist as, for an instant, his already pale face became white as his mysterious hand, and black lines coursed up his cheeks while his expression contorted in rage.  
"No…..No…." he growled, his voice echoing, his eyes slipping into an obsidian black as the back of his mouth suddenly began to glow with a strange, violet radiance. His hands trembled, the leather of his gloves tightening as it was compressed.

"Chief…" Torchwick said, eyes widened in alarm, his cocky tone gone, as he unfolded himself from his relaxed pose and placed a hand on Pyrrhos' shoulder. The air of smugness had disappeared completely, as though Torchwick knew what was happening…and knew to be afraid.  
"Boss, not here…not now."

For a long moment, Pyrrhos trembled and seemed ready to explode, the energy within him seeming to build like an overloading dust reactor, and Schnee felt that sensation, that touch of imminent death, rattle up his spine. He tensed, ready to bolt for the door.

And then Schnee coughed, hard, his teeth clenched as though he were forcing something back down, trying to contain some outburst. Torchwick grasped his shoulder hard as Pyrrhos brought a hand to his chest, grasping at his heart like he was going into cardiac arrest. His head hung low, his hair hiding his eyes….which seemed to be radiating some sort of energy….

And then, with a muted cough, it was over. Pyrrhos, using his free hand, smoothed his scarlet bangs back away from his face as he leaned back, Torchwick gently patting his back as he settled back in the couch. Pyrrhos drew a deep, calming breath through his nose, before looking down at his closed left hand, the last wisps of smoke disappearing as he opened his grasp.

The few remaining splinters of the Chess King looked like he had just raked them out of a fire; black and scorched, reduced to ashes…save for the crown

His eyes hardened, deepening their intensity, as he glared at the artful facsimile of the peak of Beacon tower in undisguised hatred.  
"So…you can't stop your twisted games, eh, your majesty?" He whispered in a voice full of hate.  
"You would subject her to….that? Did Ironwood even tell you what it does?"

He suddenly seemed to notice Schnee staring at him, his fear visible, almost trying to hide in his chair.  
"My Apologies." He said coolly as, with barely a glance, he flicked the ruined chess piece into a trash can next to Schnee's desk. The flakes of ashes sprinkled down onto his trouser leg, mixed into the black fabric, indiscernible.

The loss of the chess piece seemed to be the last thing on Schnee's mind as he stared at Pyrrhos in open fear. His ice-blue eyes were wide and his mouth hung open.  
"W-What…What Are yo-"  
"I have a Condition." Pyrrhos snapped, closing his fists again, "A legacy of my time in General Schnee's hands. I trust you'll be discreet."

Schnee looked between Pyrrhos and Torchwick, as though seeking some support in their eyes. Neither set of emerald irises gave back anything but cold indifference. Even though Torchwick's grin had returned, the facsimile of warmth did not reach his eyes.  
He knew all too well what happened when Commander of Requiem could not contain his…outbursts.  
"Of...O-Of course."

Giving Pyrrhos a chance to catch his breath, Torchwick spoke up.  
"So, yeah, Anyway, What has become an intel-gathering operation, therefore-"  
"Has become a rescue mission?" Schnee cut in with a cocked eyebrow, trying to compose himself. He could not hide a slight tightness in his voice, and he had to mop his brow with his handkerchief.  
"How very noble of you."

Torchwick shrugged dramatically, spreading his arms wide. His hands moved as though he were used to holding something in them, and it occurred to Schnee that the criminal had customarily carried a cane with a built-in gun.  
"What can I say." Torchwick replied, leaning back and crossing his legs once more, "I'm a hopeless romantic at heart. Comes from experience."  
For the barest moment, Pyrrhos allowed an ever-so-tiny grin to tug at the corners of his lips: the first sign of good humor he'd displayed since his arrival.  
When he spoke, however, he retained the same coolness he'd demonstrated all night.

"We will therefore extract the Maiden from her imprisonment under Beacon Tower, and withdraw her to safety. YOU, meanwhile, will receive the access Codes that will be used to corrupt the Atlesian Knights. This will allow you to "fix" the data loophole that Cinder used to hack them, ensuring you more contracts."  
Torchwick chuckled.  
"Not to mention all the other hardware that'll need replacing."  
Schnee grumbled under his breath: that badlands rabble had been able to find a programming bypass that would allow the Knights, fourth-generation combat automatons which had been the awe of the electronic world when introduced, to be overridden by an external control interface was bad enough: that these men were not the ones who controlled that bypass made it worse. It was one thing to work with men whom he had a mutual, if begrudging, understanding with, quite another to ponder the plans of someone else.

"And how, exactly, are you supposed to input this bypass?" he asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped before him.  
"You were originally supposed to use the CCTS hub. Planning an elaborate jailbreak?"

Torchwick and Pyrrhos glanced at one another for a moment, before Torchwick replied.

"While my….incarceration has put a slight damper on the overall plan, it's actually proven to be something of a boon to my side of the operation." said, scowling slightly as a chunk of ash fell from his cigar and scattered itself on his jacket.  
"No need to infiltrate Ironwood's ship if I'm already inside, ya 'know?"

"And your… charming, little companion?" Schnee asked, cocking an eyebrow as he pushed a glass ash tray in the shape of the Schnee Crest across the table.

"You're sure she is firmly on our side?"

Torchwick's smirk abruptly vanished. Pyrrhos hid a bemused smile: he was very defensive of his partner in crime.  
"Neo's first loyalty is-and always will be-to me." he replied, leaning back in the plush couch, looking at his cigar thoughtfully.

"She's playing the part to the hilt, I'll grant you. But she knows her part in the plan, and she'll carry it out. It's convenient that it neatly coincides with the "other" operation."

"And what of Cinder Fall?" Schnee asked, leaning back in his seat. He noticed that Pyrrhos' fists tightened upon hearing the woman's name.

"She doesn't suspect a thing." Torchwick replied, a smug grin returning to his lips as he tapped the cigar into the ash tray, "She still believes I'm locked up nice and tight aboard Ironwood's ship, as per her plan."

"Would that circumstances were different, you still would be." Schnee replied with a scowl as his hate-filled gaze returned and fell on the criminal, "Your actions have hurt my company deeply, I should be-"  
"Short term losses…" Pyrrhos cut in "Are promising long-term gains, Mr. Schnee. Which brings me back to the reason why we are here."

He slipped his left arm over the side of the couch, laying it on the black case he had brought with him.  
"I am going to need to make an adjustment to the terms of our agreement, concerning in particular the final payment for our services."

Schnee's brow furrowed, and despite himself, his own fists tightened.

"Your organization has been well-compensated-"  
"The people" Pyrrhos cut him off "who have scraped this material out of the bosom of Remnant have, indeed, been well-rewarded."

He leaned forwards, his brow deepening the shadows around his eyes. Flecks of dust from the Chess King that had clung to his glove peeled off, fluttering to the floor.  
"However, I am here for my-PERSONAL-payment."

Schnee's eyes narrowed. He couldn't keep a sudden stiff tension from creeping into his posture.  
"Our agreement was that you would receive the information upon-"

"I am altering the Agreement. Or would you rather I make sure High Commander Reed finds out just WHO you are sourcing this material from?" Pyrrhos interrupted him, leaning back in his chair and, raising his hands before his face, steepling his fingers, gazing over their tips at the businessman,  
"I can't imagine that would go well for your military contracts."

The two gazes locked onto each other, the tension between them so palpable that one would need heavy machinery to cut it. The grin slipped slightly from Torchwick's face as the silence grew. Ten seconds…..twenty…

Finally, sighing as though he were amusing a stubborn child, Schnee Stood and turned to the wall beside him. Reaching up, his hands fell upon a book whose spine read _**The Third Crusade.  
**  
_ Tugging on the book, rather than it slipping from the shelf into his hand, it slid outwards with an audible *click.*  
With a quick grinding of gears, the side of the bookcase swung open, revealing a reinforced safe with a key pad over the lock.  
"What, it's not behind your painting?" Torchwick quipped, gesturing to the portrait of a younger Schnee which hung from the wall behind his desk. Torchwick tutted in disappointment.  
"Missed opportunity for a fabulous cliché, Eisy."

Schnee bristled, but ignored the jibe. Making sure to put himself between the keypad and his guests, he punched in a set of numbers (not so careless as to use something obvious, like his birthday or those of his family) and, when the lock beeped in recognition, tugging on the handle that was revealed as the number pad swung aside.

Within was revealed a number of items: an engraved Mantle Arms handgun with a long, elegant barrel, several blocks of pure gold, a small tray with a few dust crystals in rare colors such as amethyst and silver, small folders containing bonds and important documents….and a massive object that took up the entirety of the bottom shelf.

Reaching into the safe, Schnee extracted a large manila folder, its corners worn with age and red stamps of "CONFIDENTIAL-EXTRA TOP SECRET" covering almost every inch of the outside. Papers bulged from within, like the folder worn and frayed, with tears here and there and the smashed chunks of old wax seals poking from the edges of envelopes.

Schnee made sure to close and reseal the safe before he turned back to his guests.

"There it is." The old man said as he slipped **_The Third Crusade_** back into place before he turned and, stepping back to the seating area plopped the folder down on the table with a *THUD.* The noise echoed through the room, and the ashtray and chess pieces rattled.

"Everything on project Maidenborn that wasn't destroyed, hushed up, or otherwise erased."

He eased back into his chair, pushing the folder towards Pyrrhos like it contained something repulsive, while ignoring the grin that grew on Torchwick's face. He could barely suppress the nervous shudder that went up his spine: he was committing high treason just by meeting with these men. If word ever got out about what he'd just released-!

Pyrrhos stared at the documents, his eyes wide, expression grave. Schnee cleared his throat once more.  
"I do this because there are some places where even I do not dare to go, that my Brother-in-Law and uncle clearly did." Schnee continued with a fierce look on his face, hiding his nervousness, "You've no idea what I've had to do to get these. And while I know I cannot in any way recompense you for what was done-"

"No, you cannot." Pyrrhos replied at last as he reached out and gently took the folder in his hands, holding it reverently, as though it were some holy text.  
"But you yourself were not involved with these affairs."  
He looked up from the folder, his emerald gaze fixing on the Master of Schnee Dust like a pair of laser rangefinders. Schnee couldn't hold back the tremble this time, as the sensation of death coursed up his spine for the third time that evening.  
"That, Eisen Schnee, may be the only thing that saves you."

Before Schnee could reply, Pyrrhos reached down beside him and lifted the black briefcase onto the desk, laying it before Schnee.

Standing, he handed the folder to Torchwick who, for a wonder, lost his smug grin as he took the papers and watched Pyrrhos carefully remove the glove from his left hand.

Even Schnee couldn't hold back the shocked and disgusted look on his face as he stared at the bone-white skin that was revealed, Pyrrhos flexing his fingers, trying not to dwell on the hand…or the black dust crystal embedded in his palm.

Reaching over the table, he let his hand fall on the latch as Schnee, despite himself, hastily pushed away.

Pyrrhos pressed his palm into a pad on the lock, and exhaled deeply.

As Schnee watched in growing concern, Pyrrhose seemed to force the resonating purple-black energy, the one that had seemed ready to burst out of him only moments before, out of his hand, enveloping the lock. His eyes closed, and his brow trembled as sweat beaded on his forehead.  
To Schnee's ears, it seemed a dull moan began to emanate from the corners of the room, and his head whipped around, trying to find its source. Even Torchwick seemed unsettled, chewing on the stub of his cigar as he clutched the folder tightly against his side.

Then, with an anti-climactic *click* the lock popped open. All at once, the moaning died and the energy from Pyrrhos' hand dissipated.

As Schnee's gaze fell back on him, The Master of Requiem stood up straight, letting his hand slip away from the case. With a hand showing only the barest of trembles, he withdrew the black glove from his pocket and slipped it back into place. He flexed his fingers a few times, and for a bare instant Schnee could swear the man's eyes turned black as coals.

Only then, when he was satisfied that the glove was in place and fitting properly, did Pyrrhos reach over and lift the top of the clamshell case open.

The already dim light in the room seemed to leach away, replaced with a dull glow from the case.  
Schnee leaned over, staring in awe at the neat rows of Dust crystals, each one of them obsidian black, shot through with silver marbling and glowing with a deep, violet glow, which lay in the case. Torchwick whistled a low, admiring whistle as he stared at the contents of the container.

"The key…" Pyrrhos said slowly, "To replicating the power demonstrated eighty years ago."  
He looked up at Schnee, noticing the man's gaze locked, eyes wide like a child's, on the dust crystals.  
"We call it Chrome Dust."

[=]  
(A/N: Well, that only took 6 months :[

here it is. Again, I must apologize to my readers if I keep you waiting for so long.

As for those who are wondering what has become of Pyrrha...well, wait till the next Chapter.)


End file.
